


Love, Louis

by winterschild



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, But only very very little, Cute Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Ever Since New York, Famous Harry, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Harry Styles Loves Louis Tomlinson, He Just Doesn't Know It Yet, He'll become famous eventually, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Italy, Kinda, M/M, Marriage, Minor Louis Tomlinson/Original Male Character(s), Minor Zayn Malik/Liam Payne, Niall Horan & Louis Tomlinson Friendship, No Smut, Sassy Louis Tomlinson, Slow Burn, Songwriter Harry Styles, They spend lots of time together, True Love, Writer Louis Tomlinson, adore you, always you, and it's against the OMC, gays in love, kinda not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:00:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23331277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterschild/pseuds/winterschild
Summary: Louis is spending a couple of weeks with his fiance in Italy for a "pre-honeymoon," but it turns out like most other things in their relationship: Micah is too busy focusing on his soon-to-open restaurant and Louis is left alone to tour the City of Love by himself.  When Louis finds a letter that was written to Juliet fifty-five years ago asking for love advice, he can't help but feel that he needs to write back to the woman, even if he doesn't know that she'll ever get it.  When she does get it, Amelia decides to drag her grandson, Harry, across Europe to reunite with her one true and Louis gets to tag along.Light angst followed by shared experiences, surprising connections, and true love will bring a whirlwind of adventure and one of the best love stories to exist.~Or the "Letters to Juliet" AU that absolutely no one asked for but I couldn't help but write.  Somewhat loosely based off of the cheesy movie that I happen to be in love with but Larry style.  Starring Louis as an engaged writer who doesn't know if he still loves his fiance, Harry as an angsty grandson who just wants to make his nan happy, and Amelia who us just trying to find her true love while also finding true love for her grandson.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Louis Tomlinson/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 104





	1. Chapter 1 ~ Fresh Beginnings

Louis continued to wander through Centro Storico alone, admiring the beautiful architecture surrounding him. During his research of Verona, he had known he had to visit this wonderful city center, but he had truly hoped it would’ve been with his fiancé, Micah. However, Micah was once again caught up in his work, visiting with local suppliers for the restaurant he was planning on opening in a few weeks. This was supposed to be the honeymoon they weren’t going to be able to have after their wedding; Micah’s grand opening was meant to take place just a month after they returned from Verona, and their wedding was going to be overshadowed by the restaurant, as everything else in their relationship had seemed to be. Louis understood, though, that this was Micah’s big break, and he wasn’t going to hold back his fiancé’s dreams.

His phone dinged and a message popped up from Lottie, his younger sister. He playfully rolled his eyes at the message, a smiling playing on his lips as he read, “ _He better be paying all the attention to you, Lou. You are like, his fiancé, you know. This was supposed to be a trip for you two.”_

Louis quickly typed out a response, “ _Don’t worry sis, I won’t let him pay attention to this the whole trip.”_ He knew when Micah suggested this trip it was all a rouse to come out to Italy and find suppliers, but the only way that he could get Louis to agree was to label it as “pre-honeymoon.” He thought it would be a good chance to get away from his job for a couple of weeks and take a breather from the busyness of Manhattan, even if it was all under false pretenses. There was always a better chance of getting to spend quality time with Micah too, now that his restaurant wasn’t a ten-minute walk away.

The iPhone dinged once again, drawing his attention from his thoughts back down to the device in his hand and brushed over the words on the screen, “ _You better not. You deserve better.”_ He made the decision to ignore the message and take in the scenery. The sun was setting over the west side of the city as the gentle breeze tussled his honey-brown fringe. 

He continued to roam down the street until he came upon a narrow alleyway, a large crowd gathering in and through it. Thousands of colors lined the alleyway, people of all races and nationalities sitting on the benches underneath the walls. Some of the colors came from respectful graffiti of broken hearts and names. However, most of the colors were from the abundance of letters that line the cobblestone; it was truly a sight that entranced Louis. He weaved his way through the people to the other side of the alleyway and found himself in a crowded courtyard. There was a woman on a balcony, recited what sounded like poetry. Women were crying on benches, with paper and pens in their hands. A statue stood at the back of the courtyard, with a small line of people waiting to take a picture with it. Every person who stepped up to the statue seemed to place one of their hands on the breast of display; he was a little confused on that part.

It wasn’t until he heard the girl on the balcony yell, “Romeo! Romeo!” before he figured this was Juliet’s House. This was another site he had read about on the travel websites, but it was another place he wanted to visit with Micah. However, now that he was here alone, he was almost happy to not be here with his fiancé. He quickly found a spot in the corner of the courtyard and reached toward the leather messenger bag slung over his shoulder. He pulled out a notebook of his own with a pen and began to journal what he was seeing. This was something that he would love to write and publish about if his boss would ever give his work a chance. His boss acted like he didn’t graduate with honors from NYU in journalism and had several publishings before he left with his Masters. 

The sun continued to set as people began to clear out. The line for Juliet had completely diminished, leaving only the sobbing, heartbroken women to be led out by family and friends. It was almost as if Louis could feel the hurt they were experiencing; he could empathize, even if he had never been through the same situation. He had been dating Micah for seven years and had been engaged for a little over a year now—he never knew true heartbreak. As the final of the sobbing girls left, he found himself alone in the courtyard albeit one girl, an average-sized woman, with beautiful, soft, girlish features and dark hair. The girl was pulling the letters off the wall and setting them into a basket, clearing the wall right under the balcony. Once again, Louis’ interest was piqued.

The girl had cleared the wall and started her way out of the courtyard, pushing Louis to quickly stuff his notebook back into his messenger bag and follow her. He kept a safe distance, trying to not be too suspicious. It wasn’t until about five minutes later that Louis found himself in front of a small café. The sun had completely set, but the café was still bustling with people. He continued his way inside, not wanting to lose the girl with the letters. As he made his way up the spiral staircase, he was brought into a corridor with several glass doors, one of which looks like it opened into an office space. 

He approached the open door, placing a knock of the trim where he was met with the curious look of four women. Louis’ cheeks heated before speaking, “Mi scusi. Parlate Inglese?” Although he had been practicing and picked up on the Italian that his Brooklyn fiancé spoke, he did not feel confident continuing in Italian. He had been familiarized with French at his secondary school in Doncaster, which he often mixed up with the little Italian he knew.

He saw the familiar girl’s eyes light up before smiling, “Ah, yes.” Her Italian accent was thick but completely understandable and Louis was grateful. He can’t imagine his South Yorkshire accent was any help to anyone in this country. “You must be the English translator? We were expecting a woman, I thought.”

“Oh, no, no,” he quickly said, the blush not lessening. “I am not the English translator. I just—” He stumbled over his words, not knowing how to explain that he just followed the woman here. “I, uhm, I saw you at the house—uhm, Juliet’s House. I was just—I’m sorry. I’m a writer, and I saw you take the letters.”

“A writer?” The woman’s smile was back, and she turned to the other three curious women to explain who Louis was to them in Italian. He offered a polite smile and wave, feeling more confident and stepping in. The girl turned back with a smile before speaking, “So, how can we help you?”

“Well, as I said, I saw you at Juliet’s House and I’m a writer, which makes me naturally curious. I saw you take the letters and you’ve brought them here, I guess I just wanted to know why.”

“Why?” Louis nodded. “Well,” the girl tilted her head curiously, “how else would we answer them?” Louis looked around, taking in the room he was in for the first time. Pink paper was neatly laid in stacks on the table, with matching pink envelopes next to them. Stamps were stored on rollers in the center of the table, next to multiple cups of pens. On either end of the table were large baskets, filled with addressed and stamped letters, and that’s when it hit him.

He found the endeared eyes of the girl and asked, “Answer them? You answer them all?”

She nodded and a kind smile returned to her face, “Come.” She waved the short boy over to a window that had a perfect view of the alleyway leading to Juliet’s House. It was here that he could gain a better view of the whole space, and his fingers twitched to pull out his notebook. Louis ignored the urge in order to listen to the girl, “Everyday, thousands of heartbroken and lost women find their way to Juliet’s House. They write to her, asking various questions of love and longing. We just give them answers as best as we can. Or at least we try if they have addresses on them.” She turned back to the other three women, who were concentrating on various letters. The girl first pointed at an older one, with shoulder-length grey hair and round glasses adorning her face, “That is Alice. She has been married to one man for fifty years. She answers letters that concern husbands and marriage.” The girl then moves to the woman to Alice’s left, who looked to be in her late thirties, “That is Giorgia, who is a nurse. She answers those pertaining to illness and grief.” She then moves to the other woman at the table, with cropped, red hair and a kind face, “and that is Maria. She has twelve children, twenty-nine grandchildren, and fourteen great-grandchildren. She writes whatever she wants.”

That causes a chuckle to leave the women before Louis is asking, “And what about you?”

Giorgia speaks up before the girl has a chance, “Isabela answers the ones you can barely read.” At this time, the nurse is handing Isabela back a note that is soaked in running ink from tears. 

  
Isabela smiles sadly, taking the note and setting it in a separate pile, “The heartbroken one’s. The ones that hurt your soul. Someone has to answers them. Anyway, you said you’re a writer?”

“Oh, yes!” Louis quickly broke out of his trance and offered a hand to Isabela. “I am deeply sorry; my name is Louis. I am from New York, kinda, and I am here visiting the city. I never knew that Juliet actually answered. I have only read about it online.”

“We’re actually her secretaries,” Isabela answered, taking his hand softly. “Are you writing a story?”

Louis shook his head no before explaining, “Not exactly. I’m actually here on vacation with my fiancé, but he is busy. I came across the wall and I was quite intrigued.” The conversation carried on consistently like that for an hour as he explained the trip and learned more about the secretaries. Louis was in love with the story, making notes about the ladies and their letters. It wasn’t until it was nearing 9:30 that he realized he should be leaving. He offered them a parting greeting, before being handed a snack bag with an amazing smelling treat inside for him and Micah and finding his way back to his hotel. 

His fiancé was sitting on their bed, shirtless, his phone illuminating his chiseled face. Louis took a second to take in his boyfriend; his olive skin was smooth as it covered his thick biceps. His dark brown hair was messily styled on his head, but it only added to his attractiveness. It was his hair that originally made Louis fall for him.

The door slamming is what made Micah look up as he smiled at Louis sweetly, “Hey, honey. You’re back.” Louis was only able to keep Micah’s attention for those few seconds before he was captivated by his phone again. “How was your day?”

Louis set his messenger bag and the paper bag down on the chair in the corner before easily removing his shirt, revealing his tattoos and tanned torso. He stretched a little as he answered, “It was actually really amazing. I went to Juliet’s House today and met the most amazing women called the Secretaries of Juliet. They take the letters that people write to Juliet and answer them all. It is awesome! I actually started collecting details, I think I might write a story about it and present it to Bob.”

“Yeah, that amazing, sweetheart.” Louis looked up to meet Micah’s eyes, but his smile quickly faded when he saw Micah still fixed on his phone. He let out a sad sigh before moving to the bathroom. Louis informed his fiancé that he was going to take a shower, earning no response from the man. 

He pulled out his phone for the first time in hours, seeing several more messages from his friends and family. He decided to pull open his messages from his mate Niall first, guessing that one would be less emotionally taxing than the ones from his sisters. 

_“Hope your trip is going well. Donny played today and got their ass kicked. You should probably pick a new team. Could I recommend Derby?”_ Louis giggled before shooting back a quick reply about how they’re in different leagues so he could cheer for both. He might’ve also cussed Niall out, but what else is new? 

He then moved to a message from Liam, hoping that it would also be lighthearted, but was quickly met with a message about Micah. _“Lottie texted me and told me you went out adventuring by yourself._ ” Louis moved to the next message that followed. _“When Zayn and I went on our honeymoon, we were inseparable. Take control.”_

Louis rolled his eyes at that message before typing out his response, _“What makes you think I’d care what Zayn has done or not? Everything’s fine.”_ He turned on the water to fill up the clawfoot tub underneath the window as he started reading the texts from his sister.

_“You can’t ignore me forever.”_

_“I’m gonna text Liam if you don’t respond.”_

_“Guess I’m texting Liam.”_

_“You know I only want what’s best for you. Mum wouldn’t have wanted you to be treated this way. You’re my older brother, I just love you.”_

Louis typed out an “I love you too” before stepping into the warm tub and washing his day away. He knew that his friends, especially Liam and Lottie, didn’t necessarily approve of Micah. It isn’t that he’s a bad guy; it’s quite the contrary. He is sweet, passionate, driven, and smart. Louis knows that he just has a lot on his plate right now and that once the restaurant is open, everything will cool back down again. He stayed in the bath for half an hour before he found his way out into the room again, a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. 

“Where did you get this?” was what he was greeted with when he looked up to find Micah with the paper bag from the café in his hands. It was probably the most attention Micah had paid to his since they got here. 

Louis smiled and shrugged, “I got it from the café that the secretaries work above?”

“What secretaries? Can we visit them? This is amazing!” Louis laughed, only slightly hurting from the first question before nodding. He assured his fiancé they could visit the next day after a good night’s sleep. He removed the towel, climbing into bed with Micah cuddled up behind him before falling into a peaceful slumber.

~

It was the third day they had returned to the café, which Louis learned was owned by Isabela’s mother. While Micah spent hours learning about family recipes with Isabela’s mum, Louis was quickly welcomed by the four secretaries to learn more about them. He was even allowed to write back to some of the simpler English letters with help from Isabela. 

It was nearing the end of the day and Louis was helping Isabela to clear the wall at the house. He was pulling gently, trying to preserve the cobblestone as best as possible. He plucked off a stubborn note, as a piece of the wall fell to his feet. He rolled his eyes before leaning down to retrieve the stone. As he was about to push it back into place, he noticed a piece of paper stuffed into the back of the hole. His curiosity won as he reached for the paper.

The note was fragile, dusted and thin folded into a trifold. He began to unfold it, careful not to ruin it any further because of its obvious age. His eyes quickly glided over it before they widened, and he had to reread for clarification. He called Isabela over, showing her the letter in amazement. Louis could barely contain his excitement as they made their way back to the café and into the office space.

Louis had gathered the attention of the women as he began to read,

“Dear Juliet,

I didn’t go to him. I didn’t go to Matteo. His eyes were so full of trust. I promised I’d meet him to run away together because my parents don’t approve, but instead, I’m here in Verona. At this very moment, Matteo is waiting for me below our tree, wondering where I am.

I return to Cheshire in the morning and I’m so afraid. If I return, I’ll marry Duke Styles.

Oh, please, Juliet. Tell me what to do. My heart is breaking, and I have no one to turn to.

Love,

Amelia. Dated, 1965.”

The women surrounding Louis were smiling, a longing looks in each of their eyes. Louis shook himself away from the letter to meet the eyes of Isabela with desperation. He shook his head, sparing another glance, “This was written over 50 years ago. And it never received an answer. I wonder what happened.”

“Well,” Maria began, “I think she went to Matteo and married him and had twelve children as I did.” The other women chuckled and rolled their eyes. Maria lightly tapped Alice’s arm and turned away.

Alice stated, “I bet she went home to Cheshire and married a duke and lived a happy life with him, still just as satisfied with her life.” Theories continued with lightheartedness, but Louis just couldn’t let it go. This letter dated back fifty-five years and had never received a response. 

Louis looked to Isabela with his brow furrowed, “I have to write back. I have to give Amelia an answer, even if it has been fifty years.” The women all exchanged glances while Louis maintained eye contact with Isabela, hope filling his chest. 

He followed her movements as she reached across the table, picking up one of the pink pieces of paper with a grin on her lips, “Than answer her.” Louis happily took the paper and took a seat, getting to work on writing the perfect letter. He spent hours drafting up what he wanted to write, making sure his penmanship was also perfect. If this Amelia was going to receive a letter sixty years later, it was going to be perfect. He was with finally finished the letter when the rest of the women had left for the night, leaving him to sign the letter and place it in the basket to be mailed.

After he bid Isabela’s mother goodbye, he made his way onto the quiet streets of Verona; it was quite late, and the moon was bright in the sky. He pulled out his phone and dialed Lottie’s number. It was only after two rings that his sister’s sweet voice made its way through the speaker of his phone, “Hello?”

“Alright, Lots?”

“Of course, Lou. How are you? You sound happy; is Micah finally giving you the attention you deserve on your honeymoon?”

He blushed and shook his head, sometimes forgetting that his sister couldn’t see him. “I’m doing really well actually. I had a really cool day; you know how I texted you about the Secretaries of Juliet?” After she hummed an agreement, he continued, “Well, I found a letter that was written over sixty years ago that was never answered. I got to respond to it and it was amazing. I don’t know if the letter will get to the woman, but I can only hope.”

“That’s amazing, Lou. It sounds brilliant. Have you told Micah yet?”

“I don’t know if he’d even care, Lots.” He was laughing, hoping to cover up the small ache in his heart. “How is the rest of the lot? How is my baby brother fending against you girls?” The conversation continued until he was walking up the stairs to his hotel rooms seven minutes later. He wished Lottie a goodbye with an “I love you” before he sneaked into the room he shared with his boyfriend. The lights were off, so he stayed quiet as he removed his clothes and snuck into bed. It was only a few seconds later that Micah was spooning him, holding him tight against his bare chest and Louis was falling into a deep slumber.

~

“So Micah is where again?” Liam’s voice came through the speakers on his phone. Louis knew he was about to get a lecture from one of his best mates, but he honestly didn’t know if he was ready for this conversation.

Louis readjusted his shoulder bag as he left his hotel room before continuing, “It’s called Caorle. And before you start Liam, it’s two hours away, it’s only for a few days, and I told him to go. It’s fine. He was excited, and the event is super exclusive.”

“You’ve been there a week, Lou, and he’s barely been there with you. Have you told Lottie? She’s going to be pissed.”

The small man rolled his ocean-blue eyes in annoyance, “Well, if you don’t tell her I won’t have to put up with her lectures. I get enough from you, Li, like I need to be lectured. I am a twenty-eight-year-old man. I can make my own decisions.”

“It just doesn’t seem to be very healthy.”

“If that’s how I like to live, Li, that’s up to me, so if you’re going to hold it against me, then we don’t have to be mates.”

He could hear the younger boy sigh from the other side of the phone, probably rubbing a hand against his temple. Liam sighed against, “I’m sorry, Lou. I just love you and want to look out for you. It’s your life though, so I won’t get involved.” 

Louis took in another breath before he blew. He knew Liam and Lottie were only getting involved because they cared about Louis, and he understood. He felt the same way when it came to Liam and Zayn, and Lottie and her boyfriend. Hell, he would feel that way about any of his sisters and their relationships. Because of that, Louis grinned into the phone, “I understand that you just care about me. I love you for it and I appreciate it. We can talk about this later but I’m about to head inside the café. Can we talk later?”

After promising a conversation with his best mate later, he hung up and found his way upstairs in the café. He made easy conversation with the women, which lasted hours as they made their way through several letters. It was when they were laughing about a particular note that Alice had received when they heard a knock of the door, much like the knock that Louis had made well over a week ago. 

It caught the attention of those sitting at the table and Louis’ eyes landed on the most beautiful man he had ever seen. He had a mature face, but younger than himself. His jawline was sharp but soft, lined lightly with some stubble that matched that above his lips. His lips, my god, were beautiful. They were a light pink, shaped as perfect as Cupid’s bow. Even his nose was perfect, leading up to a strong brow line that seemed to have a permanent crease between them. His eyes were stunning: Green. Sparkling and forest green, which seemed to be speckled with grey and yellow. 

Many would argue that it was the man’s style that captured Louis: A white suit, high-waisted and wide-legged pants, the suit jacket unbuttoned revealing a pure white tank top and two sparrows resting below his collar bones; the outfit would only look good on this 183cm Adonis. Rings adorned every long, slender finger on his hand, and his nails were painted a powder pink. However, Louis would always argue it was the hair. It was the jaw-length chocolate curls that were pushed back by pink sunglasses. It was the several curls that fell onto his forehead and into his eyes. It was everything about him.

If Louis thought he was captured by the man’s hair and outfit, the man spoke and made Louis completely re-evaluate his life choices. “Excuse me, are you the Secretaries of Juliet?” This man talked deep, low, and steadily. It was like honey melting on a freshly steamed roll, and his heart was slowly melting with it.

Isabela answered the man with a yes and suddenly a letter was being held in the man’s perfect hands, “Perfect. Can I ask who wrote this letter, then, to Amelia Styles?” Louis’ smile appeared when he heard the name like a reflex, and he rose from his seat. 

He pretended to ignore how the man’s intimidating stare drifted over his curves and back up to his eyes. Louis cleared his throat before raising his hand, “I did! I can’t believe it actually got to you. It’s only been a few days.”

“Well, yes, us Brits tend to stay in our family homes. I figured you’d have known that.” Louis was taken aback by the attitude riddled in this stranger’s voice but let it slide. The man continued, “What would ever make you think to write this blasted letter?”

The short man made his way in front of the tall man, popping out his hip to place a hand on it, “Well, excuse me, but I thought that Amelia deserved an answer.”

“Yeah, fifty-five years ago maybe in 1965, not in 2020.”

“Oh, well, excuse me. I didn’t know that true love had an expiration date.”

“Ha!” The stranger barked out a laugh with amusement in his eyes. “True love? Do you even know what that is?”

Louis rolled his eyes, not holding back the bite in his voice. His accent was coming through thick now, “I’ll have you know that I do.”

“What are you even doing here? Are you just some lonely British boy living vicariously through other people?”

“I’ll have you know I’m not lonely. I’m engaged.” Louis was now steaming, his arms crossed over his chest.

The stranger leaned forward, staring deeply into the ocean-blue eyes with malice in his voice, “My condolences to your wife.” The man turned on his heels—his stupid, expensive, white Gucci-heeled boots—and walked back down the spiral staircase. It took Louis a few seconds to make his body move; he was going to have the last word in this. How dare this man just come in here to yell at Louis, assume he was straight, then walk away. Louis didn’t catch the glances from the Secretaries as he stormed out of the room after the stupidly attractive arsehole.

Louis found the man walking towards Juliet’s House, so he moved quickly to catch up with the long-legged man. “Excuse me!” This seemed to catch the attention of the man because he turned around.

Louis was taken aback once again by the man’s attractiveness, but he ignored it as he came chest to chest with him. “Is that what you came here for? You came all the way from Cheshire to yell at me, assume my sexuality, and storm off?”

“Of course not, you daft.” The man squinted his eyes as he stated, “Your blasted letter caused my nan to make the irrational decision to come all the way down here and I couldn’t let her come here alone.”

“Amelia’s here? Why?”

“I’m sure even you could figure that one out.”

The realization filled Louis’ eyes and his heart fluttered in his chest. “Oh, my God. She came to find her Matteo. That’s so sweet.”

“Sweet? It’s stupid and ridiculous, and it’s all your fault.”

Louis seemed to ignore this comment with pride and asked, “Can I meet her? Can I meet Amelia?”

This made the man falter before withdrawing, “I don’t think she would want to meet the person responsible for all this.” He began to make his way towards Juliet’s House again, and Louis couldn’t help but follow him. Louis kept his distance, attempting to not stare at the way the crème-colored trousers hugged the man’s thighs and bum. When he found himself in the narrow alleyway once again, the stranger was approaching a beautiful woman, who didn’t look a day over sixty-five. She had long, chest-length dark hair, with light brushes of silver catching in the sunlight. A heart-shaped jawline fell into a delicate smiling and soft eyes. She was dressed in a crème-colored dress to match her grandson, and it allowed the tanned skin to stand out. The man set his hand on the woman’s shoulder, causing her to turn around with a beaming smile at him.

It was Amelia. Louis couldn’t believe his eyes, yet here she was in front of him. With a deep breath, he made his way into the courtyard and towards the duo. The man’s stare saw him first, causing the man to roll his eyes in exasperation. 

Before he could get a word out, Louis spoke, “Excuse me, are you Amelia?”

The woman smiled, and her eyes were the same shade of green as her grandson’s. She nodded, “I am, yes.”

“You don’t know me, but my name is Louis Tomlinson. I uhm—” Louis hesitated, holding out a hand to her, “I’m the one who wrote you the letter—from Juliet.”

Realization sparked in Amelia’s eyes and a true smile reached her eyes, “Oh, my. The letter from Juliet? How ever did you find me?” She reached for Louis’ hand, holding onto tightly with anticipation, finding her grandson’s eyes excitingly.

“Actually,” Louis began, looking towards the handsome stranger, “your grandson found me and thought you’d like to meet me.”

The grandson’s features soften as he looked at his grandmother, and Louis’ heart swelled. “Well, that is very kind of you, Harry. I am so happy you are here.”

“I am so happy the letter found you. You’ve come to find your Matteo.” Amelia nodded; a look of warmth filled her face. “This is so exciting.”

“We were just about to get a glass of wine; would you like to join us?”

“Nan, we can’t expect a stranger to just drop everything and join us. It’s been a long night, we should just head back to the hotel,” the man—Harry—argued. Louis shot daggers his way before his expression softened again.

Amelia laughed incredulously at her grandson before patting his arm, “Alright, Harry, rest easy then. I’ll see you in the morning.” She laughed, grabbing onto Louis’ hand before asking, “Do you know anywhere we can go?” Louis nodded, pulling her in the direction of the small café. Harry, to Louis’ misfortune, just rolled his eyes and followed the pair, trudging behind them. When they found themselves back at the café, the four women came down to join them, as well as Isabela’s mum, who offered them a bottle of Chianti—the Styles’ favorite brand. They spent the next hour learning of the love story of Matteo and Amelia, discussing the ring she wore around her neck on a chain and how she ultimately decided to go back to Cheshire and marry Sir James Styles. Louis asked her questions about their journey and shared his excitement for her to be reunited with her one true love.

Harry scoffed at that comment, rolling his eyes as Louis gave him a pointed look. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. My nan’s love was my grandfather, let’s not invalidate my entire existence.”

“It’s because you’re an English man—you don’t understand love. Cold as fish,” Alice commented, causing a giggle to escape the lips of the rest of the table.

“What about your lovely Louis, then? Hmm? Isn’t he an Englishman? Or what about William Shakespeare, where did he come from?” More laughs followed this comment as Harry waited for an answer, but alas, nothing came. Soon, the ladies began to give in for the night and bid the group an adieu with a kiss on either cheek. It was soon just Harry, Louis, and Amelia around the table, and they stood to say goodnight.

It was Louis who started the partings, “I am really happy that you came to find your Matteo. I hope you can find them, Amelia.” He lent in, hugging the woman tightly. He pulled away, offering another warm grin to her.

“Thank you for everything, Louis; we wouldn’t be here without you.” Amelia landed a kiss on his cheek before pulling away as Harry started to guide her. Louis caught Harry’s eyes once before they said goodbye and they started to disappear. A weird feeling bubbled in Louis’ stomach and he knew that no one would ever believe him if she found her Matteo—was he really satisfied to know she was here but not to know how it ended?

Louis shook his head, crazy thoughts racing through his mind before he began to run after the pair making their descent down an alley. “Amelia! Wait!”

Harry and Amelia turned again, surprised expressions taking over their faces; Louis would’ve sworn Harry’s expression held something more than just surprise. Louis slowed his speed when he found himself in front of them as he began, “I’m a writer. I came here a week ago and found out about Juliet’s House, completed entranced by the meaning of true love. When I found your letter, I thought it would be a short paragraph in my story, but now that you’re here, I’ve realized that you are the story. I don’t think I would be able to live with myself if I didn’t know how it ended.”

“A journalist, huh?” Harry began, his eyes scrutinizing Louis’. “You want to butt into our private lives then?”  
“Oh, hush, Harry,” Amelia interrupted, “it’s barely state secrets.”

Louis smirked at the way Harry’s eyes rolled as he continued, “I don’t want this just because it’s an interesting story. I want to help. I want to help you find your Matteo. And while I do want to write about it, I mostly just want to see where it goes. I was wondering if I might be able to come with you?”

At the same time a sound of excitement left Amelia’s mouth, a disgruntled sound left Harry’s. Amelia reached forward to grab Louis’ hand again as she exclaimed, “Oh, Louis, that’s a great idea!”

“It is?”

“Yes, Harry, it is.”

“But what about this fiancé of yours? Won’t she be upset about you just leaving her?”

Louis looked pointedly at Harry, sending daggers, “Actually, _he_ will be just fine. He is busy anyway, so I’m free.” Amelia clapped her hands and began to tell Louis the details of their journey. They agreed to pick Louis up from his hotel in the morning and they left each other that night with a promise of the next day.


	2. Chapter Two ~ Further

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis finds himself on an adventure with Harry and Amelia, but what will come from this adventure? What feelings will grow?

Louis currently found himself in the back-middle seat of the rented black Audi A6 that the Styles family chose to drive around Italy. He was leaning back, shooting off several texts to his sister and friends. He had already called Micah the night previous, explaining that Amelia had gotten the letter and had come to complete her love story; he told his fiancé that he was going to join the Styles on this trip and Micah seemed enthusiastic for Louis—it felt like the first time in a long time that Micah cared about what Louis was doing and it felt good.

The iPhone 11 Max dinged again in his hand, catching his attention as he saw a message from Niall, _“Maybe you can hook up with the hot arsehole grandson if he’s really as hot as you say he is.”_

_“You’ve forgotten I’m engaged Nialler,”_ he quickly sent back, adding in a few accompanying emojis. He had only told Niall about Harry because he had been so enraged at the boy’s attitude the night before. Louis knew if he told Liam or Lottie about Harry that it would be another endless lecture, so he stuck with Niall. Now, he was almost regretting it as they were an hour into this three-hour drive to Sienna and it was filled with endless berating from the Irish lad. 

_“You call it engaged and I call it not yet completely committed. It could be just hot, angry sex and then you’ll never have to see each other again.”_

_“This conversation is over.”_ Louis tucked his phone into his lap and took in the view in front of him. It was rolling hills and vineyards, the sun shining high and captivating Louis. His smile distracted him from noticing Amelia turning towards him and Harry catching his eyes in the rearview mirror.

Amelia’s voice broke the silence over the radio, “It’s beautiful isn’t it?” Louis could only nod. “You can see now why I was falling in love with the land as fast as I was falling for Matteo. Harry, dear, why don’t we pull over for that quick picnic you packed?” Harry found a pull-off up a hill, with a looming willow providing shade in the perfect, picturesque area.

Louis retreated from the car quickly, opening the door for Amelia and taking her hand to assist her. Harry made his way to the trunk to pull out a wicker basket and a blanket, moving towards the shaded area and laying out the blanket. Once they were all set up and halfway through their meal, Louis pulled out his notebook and asked Amelia to tell them about Matteo.

The older woman seemed to stare off into the scenery, gathering her words. In a velvety tone, she began, “It was the summer of 1965. I was only sixteen and my parents had sent me here to study art for a semester. The family I was staying with were lovely, and they had a son—Matteo.” She stopped, a blush rushing to her cheeks. “It was love at first sight; he was beautiful. He had long, dark hair, the most beautiful blue eyes, and the most gorgeous smile. He was so kind, too. He loved people and being around people. He treated the staff that worked at the vineyard with respect like his parents didn’t own the place. He worked alongside them, helped when he wasn’t busy with his studies and would eat every meal with them.” Amelia got lost in her words about Matteo, and Louis made sure to capture every detail, including when her eyes sparkled as she mentioned their evening picnics. He briefly glanced at Harry, whose eyes were shining the same as her; maybe Harry wasn’t against this as much as he had let on. It was after a beautiful description of one particular evening that Amelia seemed to remember she wasn’t there but was actually sitting with Louis and Harry, “I’ve been talking for ages, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize; it’s clear how much he meant to you.”

Amelia smiled, and the steady flow of the conversation began to die down. It was then that Amelia decided to put all attention on Louis. “So, tell us about this wonderful fiancé of yours, Louis?”

The blush heated Louis’ cheeks and he began to pick at his already destroyed nails, “His name is Micah. We met when I first moved to Manhattan from Doncaster to go to NYU and he was finishing his degree in business management.” Louis looked up to meet the kind eyes of Amelia’s, and Louis almost felt like he was lying to her—like he felt guilty. “Uhm, he is opening a restaurant. That’s kinda why we’re here, actually. He had to come to meet suppliers for his grand opening next month; I just got to tag along; I suppose.”

“Didn’t you say that this was like some sort of honeymoon?” Harry piped in, sucking crumbs off his fingers. He was studying Louis’s face curiously.

Louis nodded and dropped his gaze to his lap again, “It is, yes.” If there was one thing he didn’t want his attention on, it was the way Harry’s tongue glided over his long fingers.

“But he’s spending it looking at suppliers while you’re here with two strangers?”

“Oh, Harry, please. Quiet yourself,” Amelia replied playfully, rolling her eyes at her grandson. “So, does your family like him? Micah?”

“Yes,” suddenly Louis was smiling brightly at the mention of his family. “My siblings are kinda young, so they’ve all kinda grown up with him and they get along great. I have six siblings—five sisters and a little brother. The youngest two, Doris and Ernie, haven’t known life without Micah and me. They still live back in Doncaster, so they really only see him for major holidays.”

“Six siblings? Wow! And your parents?”

The moment seemed to carry on for a while, even Harry seemed to have noticed the tension build. When Louis looked back up, he found two pairs of curious and almost concerned, eyes staring at him. Louis continued, “My mum—she liked him. She passed away a few years ago unexpectedly. My stepdad though—he likes him too. He’s only really been around for a few years though. Micah’s never met my actual father.”

“I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories.”

“It’s okay,” Louis started, offering a tight smile to Amelia. “It was a long time ago.” Louis spared a glance at Harry, who was suddenly captivated by his own fumbling hands. Harry’s eyebrows were furrowed, but Louis was having a difficult time deciphering his facial expression. Amelia decided to carry the conversation on throughout the rest of lunch before they found their way back into the car and continued their drive.

Louis remained quiet for the rest of the drive, stuck in his thoughts about his mum and how much he missed her. If Louis was being honest with himself, his mum never expressed her opinion on Micah. The fact that Louis lived a minimum seven-hour flight from his family now and Micah had only met his family a handful of times until she passed away, made it even more difficult for her to develop a fair opinion. Lottie always said his mum liked Micah, but he always sensed that she was holding back for his sake. Sure, Micah could be a bit distant, but it was only because he was so passionate about his dreams. Micah cared for him, and Micah loved him—didn’t he? Of course, he did. He remembered when his mum had passed, how he called Micah with the only power he seemed to have left. He had been crying for what felt like a century, but he was trying to remain strong for his siblings. Micah booked the first flight out to Doncaster, in the middle of a very important meeting that almost cost him his job, and spent a week taking care of Louis’ siblings, helping with funeral arrangements, and holding Louis until he had stopped shaking. That was love, but that was also three years ago. Things really had never been the same since that trip, but when Louis finally returned to classes after three long, summer months away from Micah, Louis had changed. Micah was engrossed in starting a business and a part of Louis had been left behind in England. That might have been the part that knew what true love was for Micah.

Louis found his phone between his legs and sent off a text to Lottie, hoping for some honest answers. His fingers fumbled with the keys as he shakily typed, _“Did mum like Micah?”_

He watched anxiously as the three dots in the black bubble popped up, then disappeared, only to repeat that process several times. He decided to add another message, _“I want you to be honest.”_ He clicked off the screen, choosing to stare out the window again and watch the scenery pass by as he waited for an answer. 

When his phone finally dinged, he was expecting to find a paragraph, considering that it took his sister 10 minutes to finally respond, but was shocked to find only a simple sentence, _“She liked him because you seemed happy around him.”_ It didn’t satisfy Louis as much as he wanted it too. He wanted his sister to tell him that she loved him and wanted them to get married; he wanted to read that his mum was ecstatic when they came home for Christmas and Louis’ birthday and that she couldn’t shut up about Micah and his passion. Hell, he would’ve settled for a message that outlined how much his mum had hated his fiancé. At least it would’ve given him a definitive feeling in his heart. Now, he was only left with more open wounds on whether his mum would still like Micah now, because does Micah make him happy?

“We’re here,” the honey-like voice of Harry’s spoke up, interrupting his thought process. Louis’ attention seemed to lock on his surroundings because there is no way it had already been two hours. When he finally came to, Louis noticed that Amelia was already out of the car and walking into a hotel, while Harry was looking at him, a look of what Louis would consider concern etched into his stupidly pretty features. “You alright, Lou?”

Louis ignored the nickname that only Micah and his close friends called him as he went to unbuckle his seatbelt. He responded, “Yeah, sorry. I’m just surprised we are here already. That didn’t feel like two hours.”

“Well, you did seem to be lost in thought for quite a while; I guess it just made everything pass by.” Harry followed Louis’ action and unbuckled himself, turning back to face the front of the car before opening the door and making his way to the boot. By the time Louis made his way to grab his backpack, Harry already had it hiked onto his shoulder, along with Amelia’s luggage. The boys made there way inside, shoulder to shoulder, and met with Amelia, who was kindly talking with the receptionist.

Harry pushed his way up to the counter, handing over a shiny black card, which caused Louis to reach for his wallet. He began to pull out his own card when he found Harry blinking over at him in confusion, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Uhm, paying for my room?”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, I’m paying for it. Don’t worry about it.” 

Louis had a feeling arguing would get him nowhere, so he dejectedly placed his wallet back into his pocket and offered a thank you. After the trio had gotten settled, they made their way back to the Audi and began driving to a home only five minutes away. They began to exit the car when they arrived, but none of them knew what the next steps were going to be. It seemed that Harry would be the first to voice this observation.

“So, what’s the plan? How do you approach this situation?”

“Knock on the door?” Louis followed with a shrug. Amelia made her way to the door, before landing a few heavy knocks to it. Harry and Louis exchanged a look of anticipation as they waited patiently. After what felt like forever, the door finally opened, and Harry found his way next to his nan with a hand on her back. 

“How can I help you,” the man asked, confusion clear on his face. 

It seemed that Amelia was at loss for words, so Louis spoke, “Hi, my name is Louis. This is Amelia and Harry. We were looking for a Matteo Ferrero?”

“Yes, that is me. I am Matteo Ferrero.”

This seemed to have brought Amelia back, as she was now taking his hand and staring at him expectedly. She spoke, “My name is Amelia Carlton, do you remember me?” It was only a few seconds later that she was turning towards Harry to whisper that it wasn’t him. She turned back to the man with a smile, “I am so sorry to bother you. Have a wonderful day.” Amelia turned around and began making her way back to the vehicle when Harry ran after her, stopping her.

“How do you know it isn’t him? Should we at least make sure?”

“It isn’t him, Harry. It isn’t his eyes.” This didn’t seem to be enough for Harry, so he made his way back to the man at the door, who was still staring at the group confusedly. They saw Harry speak to the man, it being too low for either of them to make out his words.

“I curse that women,” the man shouted suddenly. Louis noticed Harry’s eye bug out before quickly turning on his heels with an adorable smile playing at his lips. The man continued to shout, “Why would you bring up such horrible memories?” By now, Harry was full-on cackling and he ran back to the two, gesturing them to return to the cars so they could drive off as fast as possible. Harry would later reveal what was said between the two men on their drive back to the hotel.

Later that day, they found themselves sitting by the pool area, Harry with a purple dressing-gown covering his body. Three glasses of wine were placed on the table for them, Louis occasionally taking a sip with his laptop in front of him.

“We can’t just give up now. He’s out there somewhere and that man can’t be the only Matteo Ferrero in Sienna”

“So,” Harry started pointedly, “What do you plan to do about it? Go knock on the door of every Matteo Ferrero in Sienna?” After not garnishing a response from either party, he rolled his eyes and heaved a heavy sigh. “We are not doing that! That’d be ridiculous.”

“Well, I haven’t flown all this way just to give up,” Amelia stated, crossing her arms stubbornly. “Where do we start?”  
Louis leaned over his laptop, pulling up the fact-checking database he uses at work and types in the name ‘Matteo Ferrero.’ His breath hitched when he saw the results, “Well, there seems to be 27 Matteo Ferreros within 100km.”

“27? Why is that name so popular?” Harry grumbled, beginning to pace next to the pool.

“With some dwindling down, I think we could get it down to single digits, or at least close to it. It’s totally doable,” Louis explained, staring directly into the green of Harry’s eyes. 

Harry suddenly stopped, curiosity on his face, “Do you even have time for this? Don’t you have a fiancé to get back to?” Louis knew it wasn’t supposed to be harsh, but he couldn’t help the sting that hit his chest. Louis nodded unwillingly, suddenly becoming engrossed with his laptop again.

“Harry, would you stop ragging on the poor boy,” Amelia chimed in, now looking at her grandson disbelievingly. 

Louis stood abruptly, taking his phone off the table and telling the duo that he’d be right back. He opened up his messages, finding Micah’s contact and hitting the call button before pressing it up to his ear. It rang twice before Micah’s voice was whispering a greeting.

“Hey, Lou, what’s up?”

“Hey, babe, hope I’m not interrupting. Uhm, so this whole Amelia love story thing—it might take a little longer than expected. Like two or three days longer.”

“Oh, well, that actually might work perfectly. I was gonna call you later but there’s another auction in a couple days that I really wanted to attend here.”

Warmth bloomed in Louis’ chest at the idea of spending more time with the Styles, but he kept his excitement down as he spoke, “That is perfect. I can continue my story and you can catch that auction. Are you sure you’re okay with this though? I know we’re supposed to be spending time together.”

“No, not at all. You are super excited about your story and I really want to go to this auction. It’s going to be perfect. It gives me more time to make some connections. I’m sorry, Lou, but I really have to go. I’ll see you in a couple of days!” The line ended and Louis was caught just looking down at his phone, his home screen now on display. Before he could think too much, he made his way back to the Styles with a smile on his face.

“He said it’s okay,” Louis exclaimed, slipping his phone back into his pocket with a smile on his face. Amelia clapped happily while Harry, once again, rolled his eyes. Louis remarked, “Keep rolling your eyes like that, Haz, and they might get stuck.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, taking a drink from his wine.

Amelia quickly turned to him, grabbing onto the knot on the front of his robe before saying, “Didn’t you say you wanted to go swimming? Leave us be so we can come up with a plan without your negativity.” 

Louis made his way back to his seat, pulling out his notebook to start drawing up a plan; he also unfolded the map of the area that was sitting between him and Amelia on the table. Harry turned around, only to remove the dressing gown from his body to reveal tiny yellow swimming shorts and tattoos—so many tattoos. Louis had already been made aware of the two sparrows on the man’s chest, but now several smaller ones were lining his left arm. A giant butterfly covered the top half of the man's stomach, and two laurels peaked over the waistband of the shorts, lining up perfectly with a strong V-line. There seemed to be a tiger poking out from underneath the left leg, and a tattoo right about his knee. Louis had never been a fan of tattoos on others, even though Louis had several himself. However, on Harry, he almost felt like it wouldn’t be right if Harry wasn’t covered in ink. It only added to his odd and mysterious aura, and it made Louis even more attracted to him. 

Louis soon found himself ogling at the tight, firm curve of Harry’s arse in those shorts, and it was unfair how beautiful Harry truly was as he dived into the unoccupied pool. It seems that Louis didn’t realize how long he had been staring, because Amelia was now smirking in his direction, adding, “He’s of a good-looking sort, isn’t he?” The blush that overwhelming fell over Louis’ cheeks was ignored as he gave his attention back to his laptop once again, ignoring the searing heat that burned in his chest.

“Let’s get started, shall we?”

~

The stars were twinkling and the moon shining brightly in the Italian night sky. The doors to Louis’ balcony were open, with a gentle breeze making its way inside; he felt calm. He had just finished showering, hair matted and wet, while he sent a text to Micah about the rest of his day. 

He pulled up his messages with Niall, who had asked Louis if he had managed to wrangle the handsome, angry man into bed yet. Louis decidedly to only indulge Niall a little bit, adding in the details about the sinful yellow swimming shorts and the multitude of tattoos. As he was reading the next text about how it was only with time that Louis would end up riding Harry at sunset, a knock was bashfully placed on his door.

When Louis had opened it, he was surprised to find Harry leaning on the wall outside of it, clad in a pair of white shorts and a white t-shirt, his hair thrown into a half-bun. With the sound of the door opening, Harry looked up with a shocked expression, almost like he wasn’t expecting Louis to answer.

“Hi, Lou,” Harry whispered, pushing himself off his current spot on the wall.

“Hey, Harry, what can I do for you?”

Harry was now wringing his hands together nervously before asking, “Do you mind if I come in?” Louis just stepped back, ushering Harry inside before closing the door and following Harry inside the room, taking a seat on his bed. It felt like a painstakingly slow 30-seconds before Harry spoke again, this time with more confidence, “I actually just wanted to come and check on you. I noticed how quiet you got during lunch after you mentioned your mum and I just—I don’t know. This was probably stupid.” Harry couldn’t decipher the expression on Louis’ face, so he took it negatively and began to pace around. “This was really stupid, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. It’s not my place and you have a fiancé for this kinda touchy-feely stuff. I’ll just leave you alone.”

“Wait, no. Don’t go.” This seemed to not only shock Harry but Louis as well. “I’m doing okay. It’s still somewhat of a sore topic to talk about, and it can put me in a mood when I think about it too much.”

“I get what you mean.” Harry had now moved across the room and made himself comfortable on the bed next to Louis. “I lost my parents when I was young, along with my sister. Even though I’ve had well over a decade to get comfortable with the idea, it can still put me in a funk too.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your parents and sister. That must’ve been hard. I don’t know what I would’ve done without my siblings. I lost one of my sisters to heart problems last year. That hurt a lot.”

Harry was now paying full attention to Louis, nodding along, “Yeah, it’s almost a different feeling. Like you couldn’t protect them.”

“Exactly.” Silence filled the room once again, but this time it was comfortable—understanding. It wasn’t normal for Louis to bring up his sister into conversation; talking about his mum could be hard enough, but at least that had been anticipated after a terminal diagnosis. “It’s nice getting to talk to someone who understands it a little. I never talk to Micah about this kinda stuff. The closest thing he’s come to loss is his hamster keeling over in year eight. He’s still salty about that one, he is.” This earned a snort out of Harry, and giggles started to erupt from Louis. Somehow, this dark moment had turned into a happy one, and Louis’ heart was soaring in his chest.

“No offense, but Micah seems like a right tosser if you ask me,” Harry chuckled, his broad shoulder knocking into Louis’ lightly. 

Although this comment would typically enrage Louis, he decided to play along curiously, “And what gives you that impression?”

Louis lost his breath when green met blue, and the tension seemed to grow in the air as Harry continued, his beautiful lips moving slowly, “Well, if I had a fiancé as beautiful as you, with eyes as blue as the Tenerife Sea and a bum like that, shit—I’d never leave him alone.” The ticking of the clock on the wall was the only sound that filled the silence between the two men. It was taking every piece of willpower in Louis’ body to not lean forward and smash his lips against Harry’s.

So, instead, he filled the void with words, “I didn’t know you liked men.”

This seemed to snap Harry out of his trance, causing him to move away and straighten up, “Well, you never asked.”

“I just assumed you were straight when you assumed I was straight.”

“I never thought you were straight, Lou…ever.” This earned an airy laugh out of Louis, and Harry followed suit, his adorable giggle filling the space. Harry placed his hands on his knees, pushing himself to stand and look back to Louis. “We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, so I suppose I should let you rest.”

“Good night, Haz.”

“Good night, Lou.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeahhhhh, I've never really been good at a slow burn. I would've had them making out in the first paragraph but...ya know? I hope you've enjoyed it so far. Drop a comment or kudos if you'd like.
> 
> I'm hoping to have a new chapter up tomorrow, but I'm not good at making promises (so if you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms, and if you like having secret little rendevous..)
> 
> Once again, this is a work of fiction and I do not own any characters or their life stories. I definitely do not own "Letters to Juliet" but I love the story. This is just for fun! 
> 
> Stay safe, wash your hands, and treat people with kindness.
> 
> ~winterschild


	3. Chapter Three ~ Ever Since New York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis, Harry, and Amelia start their adventure for Amelia's long-lost love. In the midst of it all, it might just happen that Harry and Louis could be finding theirs as well.

The plan had seemed simple enough when they were going over it the day previous; Louis had managed to whittle the possible Matteo Ferreros down to nine possible individuals within the Sienna area. Realistically, they could hit all nine within two days, which is why Louis finds himself regretting suggesting that as he rolls out of bed right as the sun peaks over the horizon. He had never been one for early mornings, finding it a struggle to even make it to his 9 A.M. job some days. 

Luckily for him, when Louis had finally found his way down to the Audi at 7:30 in the morning, Harry was there with a charming smile and a tea with Louis’ name on it. The older man took his time admiring the beauty that Harry possessed once again. His hair was still pushed back away from his face, small curls laying on his cheeks. This time, instead of the crème coloured suit, he was clad in a pair of khakis and a white t-shirt tucked into the waistband. A blue bandana was tied around his neck, his sunglasses hanging from it.

“I figured you are a Yorkshire fan, a dash of milk?” Harry started, handing the tea over to Louis, who was wearing a shocked expression. Micah, who Louis had been with for the majority of his adult life, still hadn’t memorized Louis’ tea order, yet this practical stranger was able to guess it correctly.

“Are you secretly a stalker? How would you know that?” Louis took a sip suspiciously, humming in satisfaction as the hot liquid slid down his throat. Harry was perfect as far as Louis could tell.

Harry shrugged, taking a sip from his own cup, “Well, you’re a northern boy with an attitude, it just seemed right.”

“You’re an arse.”

“An arse that brings you a proper tea.” Before Louis could respond, Amelia made her way to the Audi, a bright smile already present on her youthful face. She went towards Harry, giving him a hug, then moved to Louis to offer a light hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Good morning, my darlings, are we ready for an adventure?” 

Louis and Harry both nodded before Louis made his way to the back seat and Harry got behind the wheel, revving up the engine. They started their journey with the Matteo Ferrero who was farthest away, which would be about an hour's drive. Conversation flowed easily between the trio, and Louis was thankful that he was even able to crack jokes with Harry. It was this drive that made Louis realize that he didn’t know much about Harry, so he shifted the conversation to his career.

“Oh, Harry here is a songwriter,” Amelia smiled, turning in the passenger seat to face Louis. 

The shock that Louis was feeling must’ve been apparent on his face because Harry continued, “Don’t look so surprised. I am the artful type.”

“I don’t think I’m necessarily surprised,” Louis answered honestly. “I just thought you would’ve mentioned it when you insulted me on being a writer.”

Harry was rolling his eyes, but Louis knew it was playful, “I did not insult you on being a writer, I just don’t want our personal lives to be broadcasted throughout the whole of New York.”

Louis chose to ignore his comment to ask, “So have I heard anything that you’ve written? Do you sing your own songs?”

“I wish,” Amelia remarked, giving a pointed look at Harry. “He has a truly brilliant voice, but he chose to just write the music for a bunch of big shots than become one himself.”

“Please, nan, I have an okay voice. There are thousands of people in the world who sing just as well as I do.”

Amelia rolled her eyes before bringing her attention back to Louis, “Don’t let him fool you. He has the voice of an angel. At least I would hope he does considering how much money I spent on his vocal lessons.” This drew a laugh from Louis, and Harry watched through the rearview mirror the way crinkles formed by the ocean blue eyes.

“You might’ve heard a few songs I’ve written, Lou, to answer your question from before. What kind of music do you listen to?”

“A little bit of everything if I’m honest,” Louis spoke, picking up his phone to open up Spotify. It was always in times like these that he forgets every kind of music he listened to. “I try to keep with more pop-rock, alternative styles of music. I’m a big Oasis and Arctic Monkeys fan. I’ll catch some 5 Seconds of Summer or Lewis Capaldi if I have the chance.”

“You listen to those last two regularly?”

“I keep up with their hits.”

“Ever heard ‘Only Angel’ by 5 Seconds of Summer?”

Louis nodded, a smile spreading across his face as he answered, “Of course I have; it’s gotta be one of my favorite songs on their newest album.” It took Louis a few more moments to remember his original question before his eyes widened, “Wait, you wrote that song?”

Now Harry was nodding, a proud smile on his face—for some reason, this reaction out of Louis made it impossible not to smile. “I did; I’ve also written some songs for Lewis Capaldi—he’s a good friend. I wrote ‘Long Way Down’ and ‘Perfect’ for Lewis' last album.”

Happiness bubbled at the thought of the writer of three of his favorite songs driving the car he was currently sitting in. He couldn’t fathom that someone like Harry could produce songs like those, but it didn’t make him any less excited. 

“Well, Haz, as much as I hate to admit it, you are a pretty good songwriter.”

Amelia laughed as she exclaimed, “If you think those are good, you should hear the ones he doesn’t share with anybody. Those are his true gems. They’ll get him proper famous one day.”

Louis laughed again and stated, “I mean, Harry Styles is practically the perfect pop star name.” 

The hour flew by and before they knew it, the clan was pulling up to a beautiful home, wound with lilac bushes. They hopped out of the car, approaching the door, but this time Harry and Louis stayed back, as it seemed Amelia had grown confidence since the last interaction. After a conversation between the elders, she thanked him and walked back to the boys, shaking her head with a smile. They retreated back to the car, and made their way to their next stop, a short fifteen minutes away.

With Louis manning the map and Harry behind the wheel, they navigated the countryside well, finding each location easily. The second Matteo they stopped by was definitely not him, as he found his way off a boat, with wrinkled tan skin and a Speedo. That had Amelia and Louis laughing hysterically while Harry stared on with horror. 

The third Matteo Ferrero was also a no-go, although Harry wasn’t objecting as they pulled up to a large castle-like manor. He even made a few cheeky comments that he could be happy living there, as compared to their manor in Cheshire. Although it was not the Matteo Ferrero they were hoping for, this one was truly a charmer, taking the three on a tour of the grounds and keeping conversation with them. He managed to even make Louis swoon when he handed over a white rose to Amelia before they left, kissing her on the cheek. 

After leaving the manor, they found their way for lunch at a beautiful café in downtown Sienna, near where they would find their next candidate. They made their way to Matteo #4, which they were informed was currently playing chess in the city center. Finding the man at a chess table, Amelia had dismissed the boys, telling them she was going to be talking for a while and suggesting they go sightseeing while they’re downtown. While Louis was apprehensive, Harry spared no time grabbing Louis’s hand and pulling him away, telling him he saw a gelato shop not far up the road. 

They walked in somewhat silence, sometimes pulling each other into shops filled with various items. After a while they reached the gelato shop, sparing glances at each other whenever the other wasn’t looking. Louis spent the short journey thinking about his relationship with Harry and how he had grown to quite like the younger man, despite his original impression of him. He might even consider Harry a friend by the end of this trip, but only time would tell.

His train of thought had been interrupted when Harry asked, “What do you officially do for work? I mean, I know you write, but is that what you actually get up to?”

“Oh, no. I work for The New Yorker as a fact-checker, mainly. I’ve been trying to get my boss to clear one of my stories, but nothing’s caught.”

“And do you think this story will?”

Louis glanced at Harry again, this time letting his eyes wander over his beautiful profile, “I’m not really sure if I want to share this story. If I did though, I think it might. People love love almost as much as they love hate.”

“Is that copyrighted? That’d make a killer song lyric.” Louis actually laughed out loud, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth in surprise. Harry seemed to enjoy that sudden outburst, as his grin widened, and his eyes sparkled. Harry continued, “Where’d you go to school?”

Louis quickly recovered before he responded, “NYU. I got my Masters in Literary Reportage.”

“And that’s where you met Micah?”

“Yes; he was finishing his degree in business management when I was starting mine,” Louis answered, an odd feeling building in his gut. 

They arrived at the gelato shop, and Harry opened the door for Louis, letting him find his way in first. After they had ordered and had received their cold treats, Harry guided the pair to a small table outside that was surrounded by beautiful scenery.

Harry took a big lick of his gelato before he began again, “So you and Micah have been together a while then?” Louis nodded. “And he makes you happy?”

Louis froze mid-lick, downcasting his eyes to find interest in his Adidas shorts. Suddenly feeling defensive and unsure, he retorted, “What is this? 20 questions? When am I gonna learn more about you?”

This caused a deep chuckled to emit from Harry, but he agreed, “Alright. Whatcha got for me?”

“Well, you’re a good-looking lad. You’ve gotta have the boys all over you,” Louis remarked, a blush rising to his cheeks.

Harry laughed again, taking another lick, before answering, “The ones I do have all over me aren’t necessarily what I’m looking for at the moment.” Louis rolled his eyes at the cryptic response. He was assuming Harry was probably planning on sleeping around until he was thirty-five and finding a cute little twink to marry—he was convinced Harry could have any man he wanted.

“So, what are you looking for, Mr. Styles, that is making it so hard to find?”

Harry sat back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. He thought for another minute then said, “All the guys I’ve dated in the past use me for my money or for sex. It was fun at first, but you don’t find a whole lot of twenty-something-year-old men ready to settle down and get married in the music industry. I guess that is what I’m looking for right now.”

“You want to settle down and get married, Styles? I wouldn’t have assumed that was your style.”

Harry shrugged, “Not many people think so either, which is what makes it even harder to find someone. I guess I give off a sexual vibe, and not a lot of people take me seriously. I’m just ready for the simpler life though, you know. I want the whole “four-kids-and-a-house-and-two-dogs” vibe.”

Louis’ ears perked at this because he had completely read Harry wrong, just as everyone else has apparently done. “Four kids, eh?”

“Yeah, I’ve always wanted a big family. My granddad and nan had this massive family home, and after the accident, it was just us three. It was lonely; I hated it.” Louis took note that Harry had begun fiddling with the rings on his fingers.

He sensed that Harry was becoming upset at the topic, so he switched the conversation over to himself, “I wanted a lot of kids too. Probably not seven like my mum had because my house was always a little too hectic on Christmas, but four sounds just perfect.”

Harry was now looking at Louis with amusement, “And Micah wants four kids too?”

“Not really,” Louis began. Realistically, Micha didn’t want any kids, but they had comprised to start with one, and if it wasn’t all too bad, then maybe two. He had never told anyone but Liam and Niall that, so he decided to keep that to himself. “So, Haz, tell me about your tattoos?”

Harry easily accepted the change of topic, starting with the anchor on his left wrist. He carefully explained, in detail, what each meaning was behind the tattoos or the stories that led to them. Not all had meanings, but they all had a story. Louis’ favorite meaningless tattoo was the Green Bay Packers logo Harry had tucked on his upper left arm; Harry had gotten it after losing a bet against some friend. According to Harry, that was the last time he will ever doubt his team. Louis also sprinkled in some conversation about his own ink, many of which complimented those that Harry had like it was fate.

The conversation had died when Harry asked Louis if he could read some of his writing, which Louis was extremely apprehensive about, yet here they were, a couple of hours after leaving Amelia with Louis’ journal cradled in the massive, ring-clad hands of Harry. Harry’s green eyes flitted over the words on the page carefully, and Louis’ knee bounced nervously.

After Harry had flipped through a few pages, Louis reached across the table and snatched the notebook from the pair of hands, “Okay, that’s enough.”

“Lou,” Harry started, smiling sweetly. “You’re a really great writer. That was amazing. I can’t believe you haven’t been published yet.”

A blush had crept up Louis’ neck and onto his cheek as he responded, “Yeah, well I guess my stories have never been what they were looking for.”

“They will be, one day, I just know it. I’ll be sure to purchase every copy.”

“Hey now, leave some for others. I have to get some exposure.” The boys giggled, meeting each other’s eyes with matching smiles. Louis had found himself entranced by the green in Harry’s eyes and it was almost too much, yet neither had the strength to look away. They were lost in a moment, but it was Louis who had decided it was time to pull away. “We should probably get back to Amelia now, it’s been well over two hours.”

“You’re right.” The two stood and Harry threw out their trash, leading the way back to the café to meet with Amelia. 

When they had finally reunited with the woman, she and the man were laughing as he continued to play chess. Louis had hope but then heard the man finish, “I truly am sorry that I’m not the Matteo you were looking for. Just so you know, Mrs. Styles, if I would’ve been, I would’ve never let you go.”

“Grazie,” she said sweetly, suddenly finding Louis and Harry again. She rose from her seat, the man rising with her before she lent in to place a kiss on his cheek. “It was great meeting you. Have a wonderful evening.”

“You as well, mi bella. I hope you find your Matteo.” The man waved at Harry and Louis, before sitting back down to continue his game of chess. The trio found their way to the Audi, silence falling between them until they got in the car.

Harry was first to break the silence, “So, what’s the plan now, nan?”

“Well, I say that we head back to the hotel and grab dinner, maybe even have a few glasses of wine. How does that sound to you boys?” Both boys nodded, so they headed back to the hotel they were staying at. Once gathered around the table with a glass of wine each, Amelia began to tell them what she and the last man had discussed for over two hours. Louis listened intently, occasionally making notes in his notebook to add to the story later. 

The sun was setting before they knew it, and Amelia excused herself, hoping to call it an early night back in her room. Louis and Harry decided to sit and enjoy the rest of the bottle, guessing for one more glass for each of them.

“Did you go to university then?” Louis asked, truly not knowing the educational grounds for songwriting.

Harry took a sip then answered, “I did. I got my master’s in music composition.”

“Well, isn’t that quite something? Go anywhere fancy?”

“I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you,” Harry chuckled, side-eyeing Louis.

Louis rolled his eyes, taking another sip from his glass, stating, “The only way I wouldn’t believe you is if you told me University of Oxford or summat.” Harry chose that the lack of response would be enough to answer Louis’ questions, and he was right after half a minute when Louis’ eyes bugged out. “No fucking way. You went to Oxford? Why am I surprised? Of course, you did! You’re Mr. Perfect.” Harry found that those last few words weren’t meant to slip out, but they did, and he felt great about it.

“I started songwriting at a decently young age, given it wasn’t the best,” Harry shrugged. This had Louis exasperated because of course this man would act like going to Oxford was no big deal. “My granddad went to Oxford, and being an orphan legacy will get you everywhere, darling.”

“Are you working on anything now?” Louis wondered, thinking he might be able to get a sneak peek of a new Lewis Capaldi song.

Harry kept eye contact with Louis as he took a particularly long sip, a suspicious glint in his eye. “I might be. Why? Wanna hear something?”

“Well, it would only be fair considering you got to read some of my writing,” Louis shrugged cheekily, a smirk playing on his lips. Harry smirked back, carefully lifting himself up from his chair and wrapping his long fingers around the neck of the wine bottle. He then plucked Louis’ glass from his hand, cradling the stems of both glasses in his other hand. 

Harry’s eyes challenged Louis’, and it came out almost flirtatious when he beckoned, “Follow me then, Mr. Tomlinson.” Louis didn’t have to be told twice. 

They found themselves in Harry’s room, the curly-headed lad sitting on the corner of his bed, a guitar in his hands. The wine bottle, now empty, sat on the dresser next to the two half-empty wine glasses. Louis was sat across from Harry in a chair, admiring the way his fingers plucked the strings. 

Harry had just finished an acoustic set of “Perfect” and Louis’ heart was on fire. Amelia hadn’t been lying when she said that Harry had an angelic voice, and he was almost upset that the world had been deprived of such a star. At the same time, he felt selfish, as he wanted to bottle Harry’s voice up and keep it in his pocket for his ears only. 

“You’re born to be a star, Styles. Why don’t you sing these songs yourself?”

Harry giggled, feeling a buzz from the wine, “I just did, silly.”

A playful sigh fell from Louis’ lips, “I meant as in on the radio. Why don’t you record your own songs?”

The songwriter shrugged, still strumming his guitar lightly, “I just never thought I could make it. Then I got asked to write a song for Ariana Grande and then more offers started coming in left and right. I guess I just never had time to pursue my own career.”

“Would you wanna do it? Perform and record yourself, I mean?”

“Maybe one day. Honestly, Lou,” Harry started, but stopped to breathe in the silence between him and Louis. “Honestly, I don’t know if I could ever make it big. Like I said earlier, I’m just one of thousands or ten thousands of people with a good voice—I’m nothing special. Plus, I’m ready to settle down in life. I can’t really do that if I’m touring the world, now can I?”

Louis reached over to place his hand on Harry’s much larger one, ignoring the spark that zipped through his fingers, “Nonsense. You are special. Also, Elton John manages to do just fine, and I think you can too. I think, Curly, that you were born to be a star.” Harry could do nothing but smile at Louis, warmth filling his chest. It was in this moment that Harry wished he could reach across and kiss Louis, but he couldn’t. Louis continued, “Now, your nan mentioned you have a bunch of unreleased songs. Play me one of those. I demand it.”

“Not gonna steal it and sell it for yourself, are ya?”

“You have my word, Styles. Scouts honor,” Louis joked, holding up two fingers smugly. 

Harry’s hand began to pluck a melody, his fingers moving smoothly over the chords. He explained, “I wrote this one about an ex of mine. We had dated for a few years and then I found out he had been cheating on me with some new guy. I more figured it because it was almost immediate after our split that they got together, but I guess it’s only an assumption. According to him, we broke up because we had drifted and I was too busy to realize it.” Louis was looking at Harry with such intensity that it sent shivers down his spine. “Anyway, Lewis really liked it, but he understood when I told him it was too personal. It was the last serious relationship I had been in. I call it ‘Ever Since New York'.” And then he began singing.

“Tell me something, tell me something

You don't know nothing, just pretend you do,

I need something, tell me something new.”

Louis just sat and listened, letting his emotions get the best of him and flow through his body. The song was full of raw emotion, telling a story of pure heartbreak on Harry’s part. Louis felt the emptiness that Harry had been feeling at the time of writing, and it was slowly clawing its way into his heart. As he continued into the chorus, it was only fair that Micah sprung into his mind.

“Brooklyn saw me, empty at the news,

There's no water inside this swimming pool

Almost over, had enough from you.

And I've been praying, I never did before

understand I'm talking to the walls,

I've been praying ever since New York.”

Although thoughts about his relationship were threatening to overtake his mind, Louis pushed them down, focusing on the beautiful boy sat in front of him, pouring his heart out to him. Harry’s eyes were closed, clearly feeling all the lyrics as he finished off another chorus, bringing the song to an end.

When he had finally reopened his eyes, he found Louis just staring at him, an unreadable glint in his ocean eyes. It was rare for Harry to share his personal songs with others, especially people he had only met a few days previously. It was Louis, however, that stirred something weird inside Harry. It was almost like a cosmic connection uniting the two—like they were made from the atoms of the same star. Those atoms made Harry want to pour his heart out to the northern boy in front of him.

It felt like an eternity before Louis could find the correct words to speak, “That was beautiful, Harry—absolutely beautiful.”

“Thank you, Lou.” A strange tension filled the air, and Louis had a feeling it was mostly his fault. Another overwhelming rush of emotions flooded his mind, and he quickly stood from his chair, steadying himself from the alcohol he had consumed early. Harry set his guitar down, following Louis’ movements, reaching out to assure Louis didn’t fall.

“Uhm, I’m sorry, Haz. I just—” Louis was stuttering now and he didn’t understand why. He nervously looked around the room, avoiding the eyes that were burning a hole in his head. “I just…I really have to go. I’m sorry, Harry. Great song.” He picked up his bag from beside the chair and began his way to the door.

“Wait, Lou—” Harry began, confusion clear on his face.

However, Louis didn’t wait. He really couldn’t, if he tried. His feet were moving him away from Harry and towards his own room, avoiding the voice in his head telling him to turn around and talk to the Cheshire man.

It was that song—that stupid song. It was about drifting apart and talking to a wall; it felt like it was about him. Louis knew what Harry was singing because Louis had felt the same feelings when he had returned to New York after his mum had passed away. 

When he finally found himself in his room, hot tears were falling off his cheeks and his breathing was shallow. He snatched his phone from his pocket, quickly finding Micah’s contact and dialing. 

He waited. He waited for the answer that never came, even though it was barely past ten at night. He knew Micah wasn’t asleep, or he was and his phone was on silent. When Micah’s voicemail began, Louis hung up, deciding a good night text would suffice. However, it didn’t stop the aching, so he did the next best thing he could.

Louis dialed the number, knowing it would go to voicemail, but he didn’t care. He just needed to hear it.

Beep. “ _You’ve reached the voicemail of Johannah Deakin. I’m sorry I can’t get to the phone right now, but if you leave a message, I’ll try to get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you_.” Beep. 

Louis was quiet at first, wishing her message would replay so he could hear her voice again. “Hi, mum. It’s been a minute since I called.” He took a shaky breath, “I know you won’t get this, but I’ll leave a message anyway. This is ridiculous that I’m calling. It’s been forever, but you always knew what to say. I wanted to ask you a question, and that was if you liked Micah or not. I feel like I know, in my heart, what your answer would be. I met this guy, his name is Harry, and I almost feel like my whole world’s been flipped upside down, mum. I’m starting to lose my mind.” His eyes fluttered shut, feeling what was running through him like she was right there giving him an answer. “I know I’ll do what’s right for me, mum. I just wish you were here telling me what to do. I love you—so much. Good night, talk to soon.” Louis pressed the call end button, breathing in a sigh of relief, feeling calmer than before. 

Louis knows what he should do, but something inside of him also knows that he can’t. For now, he decides to push it down, stripping himself of his clothes and finding his way into his bed, phone grasped tightly in his hand. He breathed in another deep breath, closing his eyes and hoping for the emotions to float away in his dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, remember when I said I'm not good at keeping promises? Yes. I wasn't lying. 
> 
> Sorry it took so long. While I am in isolation, I am also finishing out the last two weeks of my final year of university and I let too much work build up. I ACTUALLY plan on having more up tomorrow, considering that it's already written, but I want to make y'all wait. 
> 
> Also, remember when I said I wasn't good at slow burn--I'm really not. I do, however, love torturing myself with song references!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, feel free to drop a kudos, bookmark it for later, or leave a comment. Once again, this is a work of fiction and I do not own any characters or their life stories. I definitely do not own "Letters to Juliet" but I love the story. This is just for fun!
> 
> Stay safe, wash your hands, and treat people with kindness.
> 
> ~winterschild


	4. Chapter Four ~ Adore You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry, Louis, and Amelia carry on with their adventures. Louis battles with his inner demons and might finally decide to face some of the issues that have been rising up. He might also finally admit that he is attracted to Harry. There might be a little kissing and guitar playing, and maybe even a hidden agenda.

The trio decided to have a later start today, which was mostly initiated by Louis, who texted Harry at two in the morning asking if he could sleep in. Even though Louis was able to sleep in an extra hour, he still woke up with a massive headache; he couldn’t tell if it was a result from the crying, the lack of sleep, or the alcohol from the night before, but he’d guess it was a little bit of everything.

After throwing on a pair of Adidas track pants and a white t-shirt, he fixed his hair into a messy quiff and made his way down to the pool where he promised to meet Harry and Amelia. When he found them, his eyes were immediately drawn to the half-naked, wet Harry leaning back in a lounge chair, laughing so hard his neck was straining. Amelia was also laughing, but it was clear that she was the one telling the funny story. Louis’ heart was hammering in his chest as his brain begged it to stop because he really shouldn’t be reacting this way simply to a shirtless man.

“Good morning, Louis,” Amelia greeted, immediately ushering him over for a hug. He took it, knowing how much he needed one after last night. Harry perked up, sitting up straight again in his chair and shooting a smile Louis’ way. 

The smile seemed to fade, only slightly, when he took in the partially dishevelled appearance of the boy in front of him, bags dark under the smaller boy’s eyes. Harry, however, seemed to cover his falter up easily, a grin resuming, “How’d you sleep, Lou?”

“I slept alright. Just wanted to bask in that amazing bed for a little longer this morning,” Louis laughed, reaching for one of the apples in the middle of the table. “So, what’s the plan?”

Amelia began to describe the five people they were planning on visiting that day, a gleeful tone to her voice. Once the three had finished their breakfast, Harry excused himself to change into something more appropriate before heading off.

“So, how are you holding up, dear,” Amelia asked, watching her grandson wandering back into the lobby of the inn. “How’s your fiancé?”

“Yeah, he’s doing alright. He’s enjoying his time at those auctions,” Louis shrugged, trying to keep a positive front for Amelia. He had barely spoken to Micah since he called him the morning they came to Sienna. A few texts had been traded between the couple, but it would barely pass as a full conversation. Louis decided he wanted to pull the conversation away from him, so he asked, “And how are you, beautiful?”

Amelia laughed, swatting a hand at him, “Oh, I’m having a great time. I love Italy so much, and it’s been a pleasure to see this area again. Even if I don’t find Matteo, I can’t say I’ll regret this trip.”

“I’m happy that you’re enjoying yourself. I promise you, though, we will get you a happy ending one way or another. I’m not giving up.”

“Pish posh, dear,” she exclaimed, rolling her eyes. Amelia seemed to study Louis’ face carefully, almost as if she could read his mind. “It’s not always about getting what you want, darling. Whether I find Matteo or not, I’ve got my happy ending. I’m here, aren’t I? That’s more than most people could say. I’m enjoying the journey.”

Louis nodded and decided to let those words linger in the air a little longer. The two enjoyed a comfortable silence before Harry joined them again, looking like he walked straight out of a Gucci advertisement. He was wearing crème coloured trouser again, but most likely not the same ones he wore when Louis first met him. His torso was covered by a floral, silk shirt, buttoned up mid-chest, allowing the swallows to peak out again. His signature rings were laid out strategically on every finger, leading up to his toned arms covered in tattoos. Louis sat there, wondering how one person could be so attractive.

“Are we ready to head out, then?” Amelia and Louis nodded, standing up from their seats and following Harry out to the car.

As they buckled their seatbelts, Louis attempted to add to the positive energy, joking, “If I would’ve known we were scheduled for a Gucci photoshoot, I would’ve dressed more appropriate, Haz.”

Harry snorted, quite attractively (and annoyingly), teasing, “I am 100% sure you wouldn’t know fashionable if it bit you on the nose, Mr. Tracksuit.”

“Hey! Tracksuits are comfortable and fashionable in the best way.”

“Sure,” Harry rolled his eyes, “if you’re talking about a 60-year-old man from the 80s.” That set the mood for the rest of the ride, banter being tossed between the men in the car, and Amelia watching with a curious smirk on her face. Louis liked this energy, as it reminded him of travelling with Liam and Niall, who were easy to be around. Louis assumed that Harry might actually get along really well with both his mates and even considered adding him to their group chat.

They had made their way to the first Matteo Ferrero, who was decidedly not the one they were looking for. The man was sweet, but he had been married the year before Amelia had met Matteo and had a beautiful wife and family to back it up. They did, however, offer up some delicious pastries for the three to have on the road, and Louis wondered why nearly every Italian they had met so far had been so kind.

The second Matteo Ferrero was staying at a Catholic nursing home. One of the nuns had guided him out; he was a blind man, but even with touch as his only sense, he was able to compliment Amelia on her natural beauty. Even though he had blue eyes as she had described, it was not the right Matteo, and they left following a brief conversation. 

The day seemed to be flying by, the number of Matteo Ferroros quickly diminishing, and hope being lost with every one of them. The team decided to stop for lunch before continuing their journey, enjoying the beautiful day they had been blessed with. After an amazing meal and more banter, they found their way to an apartment building down an alleyway in town. 

Harry was the first to knock, waiting patiently for someone to answer the door. After half a minute had passed, Harry tried again, a little more urgent this time and Louis looked around hoping to find an available neighbour. Finally, another minute had passed, and a younger man on a bike passed by, stopping quickly when he noticed the three standing on the doorstep.

The boy approached them, asking, “Are you looking for somebody?”

Louis nodded, providing Matteo’s name for the boy. The boy then nodded and told the three to follow him in their car and he would take them to his resting place. A chill was sent down Louis’ spine at the implication of the words, and his worst fear was only confirmed when they pulled into a cemetery only two minutes down the road. After they had waved the boy off, they pulled into the cemetery, parking the car and making their way out into the grounds to find the plot. 

Louis and Harry hung back as they watched Amelia approach the gravestone, giving her a moment to collect her thoughts. Louis thought back to the day of his mum’s funeral; unfortunately, he remembers it clear as day. He could barely stand that day, so he had lent up against Micah or Lottie for support. Even though he remembers the funeral, the rest of the day—or the week really—was quite blurry. Louis does remember about that week, however, that there were a lot of tears and a lot of alcohol on his end. 

He was pulled from his thoughts when he noticed movement beside him, and he found Harry making his way next to Amelia to wrap an arm around her shoulder, offering her a light squeeze. Louis never thought it might end up this way, with her Matteo being dead. There is no saying that this was actually him, but for all they know, it very well could be. Louis dropped his head, hating to intrude on this sensitive moment.

Five minutes later, after Amelia had left the departed with a few sweet words, they made their way back to the car. As Harry started up the engine, he proclaimed, “This is it. There’s no more after this.”

“Oh, Harry dear, there’s still two more left,” Amelia reasoned, although it was quite weak.

“No. This is it, nan. We’re done with this.” Harry ended it there, putting the car in drive and starting their way back to the hotel. The ride was silent, but this time it was an awkwardness that filled the silence. Louis decided to mess around with his phone as Amelia watched the scenery pass by out her window. Louis could obviously tell that Harry was frustrated if the veins on his forehead were anything to go by. 

When they finally got back to the hotel, Louis was the first out of the car, opening the door for Amelia to depart. He took her hand, offering her a smile before saying, “I’m so sorry, Amelia.”

She shrugged before offering, “It’s okay, Louis, this isn’t your fault.”

“It’s not okay, nan,” Harry snapped, slamming his door in the process. Harry stomped over to the other side of the car, creating space between Louis and Amelia. “And, honestly, I’d say all of this is your fault.”

“And how is that, Harry,” Louis questioned, his brows furrowing in frustration. He moved closer into Harry’s space.

“You’re the one who wrote the stupid letter that brought us here! It was your stupid letter that dug up the past, your stupid idea to commit to this trip, and your stupid research that led to that stupid, fucking cemetery where my nan’s heart broke all over again!”

Louis rolled his eyes, throwing his hands out in exasperation before he sarcastically remarked, “Oh, well, sorry! Like I knew this shit would happen. I was just here to help, Harry. I wasn’t looking for anyone to get hurt.”

“Yeah, well, it did. This isn’t your life, Louis,” Harry barked, pushing his finger into Louis’ chest. “This isn’t your family. This is none of your business. Why don’t you just stay out of everyone else’s lives and focus on fixing your own shit first?”

The silence was as heavy as the tension, and Louis was taken aback by the remark. He couldn’t understand how the Harry who had been playing the guitar mere hours before could be the same one standing in front of him now. 

“That’s enough, Harry Edward Styles,” Amelia demanded, placing a hand in the centre of his chest to push him out of Louis’ space. Louis wasn’t focused on that though. No, he was focused on swallowing the lump forming in his throat; he would not allow himself to cry in front of Harry or Amelia. Instead, he turned on his heels and walked towards the hotel. He faintly heard one of the two calling out his name, but the ringing in his ears made it impossible for him to decipher which one it was.

When Louis had finally made it into his room, he plopped on his bed and let the tears flow. Sobs racked his body as he curled into the blanket, wishing desperately to be in the arms of his mum. He couldn’t help but think that this was all a big mistake. He didn’t know what he had been thinking when he suggested tagging along, but he figured it had something to do with that shit Harry had told him to sort out. Maybe Louis really was just that lonely; maybe he wanted a purpose while he was in Italy while his fiancé was on the other side of the country not even acknowledging his existence. 

So, Louis cried. He cried until his eyes were sore and his cheeks were raw. He cried until his pillow was uncomfortably wet, but he lay in it anyway, thinking he deserved being uncomfortable. Maybe Harry was right; maybe this was all his fault. Maybe everything wrong in his life had been his fault.

Louis cried so much he hadn’t realized he had worn himself out into a much-needed nap. He was only woken up by the sounds of tapping from his door, several hours later. He quickly wiped any excess tears from his face before sorting out his hair and making his way to the door. He snuck a quick glance through the peephole, only to find Amelia on the other side of the door. Louis cracked the door open, giving her an okay to push it farther and make her way in. Once her eyes landed on the dishevelled Doncaster boy, she was quick to take him into her arms and squeeze him tight. Louis enjoyed the moment in her motherly embrace, wanting it to stay that way forever. 

When the pair finally pulled away, she swept some of Louis’ hair from his face, as well as a few rogue tears that had fallen during the hug. A kind smile was evident on her face, but pity was not far behind it.

“You alright, dear,” Amelia asked after a while.

Louis nodded, “I’ll be fine. I promise. You must think me so embarrassing crying like this; I’m sorry.”

“Oh, please. Never apologize, dear; never feel sorry for showing emotion. It’s only natural.” The boy nodded again, choosing not to say something in fear that he might crack again. “You know, Lou, when I was a young woman, I made the mistake of pleasing my parents rather than following my heart. And it is every day that I live with that decision.

“I turned out with a pretty great life. I married a wonderful man who, although cold and unaffectionate at times, was kind to me and took care of me. He gave me a wonderful son who married a wonderful woman, and they gave me two amazing grandchildren. I lived a great life, even though it wasn’t the one I always dreamed about. I wouldn’t, however, trade it for anything. And I wouldn’t change my life as long as it meant that I ended up right here with you.”

Louis looked up, confusion clear on his face. “But this has turned into a disaster.”

“It wasn’t a disaster, Louis. I got to come back to the country I love with my beloved grandson and meet so many new, amazing people. One of them being you, and I will forever be grateful for the amazing memories you have gifted me with. It might not have been the ending we were all hoping for, but at least I got to live it.

“Sometimes we don’t get those ending, either. Sometimes life ends too soon and it’s unfair, but we should leave this world with no regrets. So, Louis, don’t regret this. Use it to start living.” Amelia lent in again, offering a tight embrace to the boy, and Louis did not object as he melted into it. He hadn’t been hugged like this since before his mum had passed away, and he was not about to waste it.

“I’m still sorry it ended up this way. I wish we could’ve changed it.”

Amelia shrugged, pulling away from him again. “Don’t think about it too hard.” She patted his shoulder, offering another smile, before starting her wait toward the door. Before she walked out, she turned back to Louis. “Oh, and Louis?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t think too bad on Harry. He’s just a little protective because of all he’s lost, but he didn’t mean any of that. He’s a really good guy. And he cares about you too much to mean it.” And with that, she was gone, shutting the door behind her. 

Louis’ eye wandered on the door just a minute longer, taking in Amelia’s words calmly. He figured Harry hadn’t meant what he said—that wasn’t who Harry seemed to be, but it still hurt Louis. Maybe Louis knew it hurt because it was true, and he did have shit to work out. Hell, his fiancé is across the country doing his own thing on their pre-honeymoon, his friends are constantly pointing out these fatal flaws in his relationship, and now, he can’t help but think his mum would’ve advised a break up if she was still alive. 

In times like these, when Louis would be begging to talk to his mom, he did the next best thing. That’s why he was stood with his phone to his ear, waiting for his sister to pick up so he could work out the war in his head. 

“Alright, Lou?” Lottie’s voice rang through the speaker, causing an instant perk in his mood. 

“Yeah, Lots, I’m alright. How are you?”

  
“Doing great actually; Michael and I were about to head out for dinner in half.”

“Oh, I won’t hold you too long; I just felt like I needed to talk to someone.”

“Anything, Lou, what’s up?”

Louis hesitated because once this can of worms was cracked open, there was no way he was going to be able to close it again, especially if Lottie had anything to say about it. “I’m in Sienna right now. Without Micah—he’s still in Caorle across the country. I meant to tell you, but I knew you were going to lecture me about it, so I didn’t. I’m actually with Amelia and her grandson, Harry, which is the woman I wrote the letter to from Juliet. She’s here to find her Matteo, her Romeo.” Louis let that information sink in, receiving silence from Lottie’s end. When he heard her breath pick up, as if she were about to speak, he interrupted, “Before you start, just know that I pushed for Micah to go. And I really wanted to do this, a lot. I’m writing a story about it and it’s been lovely…Really lovely.”

“Well,” Lottie began, a sound of exasperation behind her tone, “I can’t say I approve of Micah leaving you to go across the country for something having to do with his restaurant, no doubt, but I’m happy you’re enjoying it.” Something in Louis’ gut settled at her approval. “However, I know that you wouldn’t just call me to tell me something bad Micah was getting up to, so I’ll ask again. What’s up?”

This was what Louis was dreading, but he knew he had to speak about it to somebody. “Harry, Amelia's grandson, he’s pretty awesome, Lots, I think you’d like him. He’s about my age; 26, I think. And him and I have been talking about Micah a bit, and mum. He’s what prompted me to text you the other day actually. And, Lots, I’ve got shit to work out, don’t I? I’ve been here holding my breath for years since mum passed, and there is this deep shit about Micah and us and how mum felt about Micah.” He heard Lottie hum, taking it as a good sign that she wasn’t automatically yelling at him. So, he continued, “Lottie, I really need you to answer me something honestly. How did mum feel about Micah?”

Just as it felt when he texted his sister two days before, it felt like forever before he got an answer. He was sitting now, on the edge of his bed, waiting for any kind of confirmation to his suspicion—his suspicion that maybe he wasn’t marrying the love of his life.

“Mum loved anyone you did. I always thought you were her favourite if we’re being honest here, and she always wanted to make sure you had everything you wanted, mostly because she knew how amazing you were and that you could do anything you set your heart to. When you first introduced Micah to us through FaceTime, she liked him, Lou. We all liked him, but it took her a while to really warm up to him. When you brought him home for your birthday and the holiday that first year, I think that’s when her doubts started.” Louis shivered at those words—that was so long ago; had she really known this entire time? “Like I said, it wasn’t that she disliked him, Lou, but I think she just knew he wasn’t the one for you. Mother’s intuition or summat. But if you were happy, so was she. When you stopped being happy, Louis, she did. And when you stopped loving him, so did she.”

His heart stuttered. He had stopped loving Micah? How could he have missed that? When did his mum know that had happened when Louis himself was still so unsure? He lost himself in his thoughts. 

A simple “Lou” brought him back, remembering where he was and who he was talking to. “You said this Harry bloke brought this on?”

“Yeah, Harry Styles. He’s something else, I’ll tell you, Lots. He’s from Cheshire actually; a real posh—very infuriating.”

“Hmm,” she laughed. “I’m sure—real infuriating, huh?”

“Oh, please, don’t start, Lottie. This is why I regret telling Niall.”

“YOU TOLD NIALL BEFORE TELLING ME?” This caused Louis to laugh, happiness bubbling in his gut, replacing the hurt that came with thinking about his and Micah’s relationship.

Louis stopped her train of insistent yelling. “Of course, I did, you twat, because I knew you’d react this way.”

“You are the worst big brother; I’m supposed to know everything first.” There was a beat of silence. “So,” another beat. “He’s hot, then?”

“LOTTIE!”

~

The sun had set long ago, the moon taking its place over the horizon, with thousands of stars reaching as far as his eyes could see. Louis was entranced, laying in the courtyard outside the hotel. After his conversation with Lottie, Louis felt better; he felt much surer of his emotions.

He still wasn’t sure what he was going to do with his relationship; they were engaged, for bloody sakes. You don’t just end a relationship on a pre-honeymoon without talking through the problems and seeing if you can fix them. Louis still wasn’t even sure of his emotions; he truly didn’t know if he loved Micah or not.

His chain of thought was interrupted with a presence next to him. Louis looked up to find a kind-faced Harry smiling at his, looking much more casual than when he had last seen him. The moonlight kissed Harry’s features, softly bringing out the pale green of his eyes and the creases of his forehead. His dimples were beautifully lined, and once again, even in a pair of black gym shorts and a t-shirt that said “BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM,” Harry managed to take Louis’ breath away.

Harry was the first to break the silence. “Hi, can I sit?” It wasn’t until Louis nodded and Harry began to tumble his way down into a sitting position on the grass that Louis noticed Harry had his guitar and a notebook with him. “I wanted to come apologize for earlier. What I said was out of line, and I shouldn’t have said it.”

  
“It’s really okay, Harry—”

“No, it isn’t. It was very out of bounds and very unlike me. I don’t want you to think I’m not a gentleman, because I am. My nan has been so happy this entire trip, and I haven’t seen her so excited about something in so long. That’s all because of you, Louis.” Harry was staring intently at Louis’ face, most likely noticing the blush that was crawling its way up Louis’ cheeks. “No one has shown so much interest in my nan’s happiness since my granddad, and it’s nice to know that you care.”

“Well,” Louis chuckled, “your nan is an amazing woman. She deserves happiness, and I just wanted to help give it to her if I could.” Harry nodded, his smile widening and his dimples deepening if that was even possible.

“She really is something. And so are you, Lou. It wasn’t my place to tell you to work out your shit because we all have shit.” Harry brought his hand up to Louis’ shoulder, placing it there gently, sending a warm feeling through Louis’ heart. The cold came to his shoulder too quickly where Harry’s hand withdrew, but the Cheshire boy was now reaching for his guitar to his left. Harry turned back to Louis, guitar situated on his lap, “I actually wanted to play you a song if you don’t mind. Kinda like an apology. It isn’t finished, but it came to me last night and I just wanted to play you what I’ve got so far.” 

“Of course.”

“Alright, great,” Harry giggled. Louis caught the hesitation before Harry continued, “This one is about attraction. Specifically, that euphoria, that initial excitement, you feel when you start, just, being around someone; like the thing you feel when you first see them and your heart kinda thumps a little too loud. It’s where you kinda just wanna be like, ‘Take me.’ So, yeah. Enough talking, here it is.”

Harry strummed the first cord, slow lyrics quick to follow over the acoustic guitar,

“Walk in your rainbow paradise,

Strawberry lips stick state-of-mind,

I get so lost inside your eyes,

would you believe me?

You don’t have to say you love me,

you don’t have to say nothing,

you don’t have to say you’re mine.”

The beat picked up, Harry’s fingers delicately moving across the fretboard as he followed into what sounded like a chorus,

“Oh, honey.

I’d walk through fire for you.

Oh, honey, 

just let me adore you.”

He repeated the verses twice more, all while maintaining eye contact with Louis, whose breath was caught in his throat. With some light humming, he closed the song, eyes remaining locked in position.

The tension remained thick, but this time, it wasn’t negative. Unconsciously, the boys had moved closer to one another, only inches between them. Harry carefully pulled his guitar off his lap to set it back to his left, making sure to keep his attention on the Doncaster boy in front of him.

“So,” Harry began, “what did you think? I know it’s not much.”

“It was amazing, Haz.” There was a question hanging above him that he wanted to ask. So he did. “Who’s it about?”

Instinctively, Harry leaned in closer, bringing his massive hand to warm Louis’ cheek, letting his thumb stroke Louis’ cheekbone. The cool rings against Louis’ hot cheeks felt blissful, much like the moment they were in.

Harry opened his pink lips, the word dancing on the tip of his tongue in this defining moment. It was becoming unbearable to resist the beauty that was Louis Tomlinson. So, he stopped resisting.

“You.” And their lips were touching. Louis couldn’t remember who leaned in first, but he figured they met in the middle. Sparks were flying, his heart was beating out of his chest, and his soul was alive. He hadn’t felt like this in so long, and he didn’t want it to stop.

Harry’s lips were soft and warm, fitting in perfectly with his. They tasted like strawberries, and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning farther into Harry’s strong body. It felt like the world had stopped—the stars had stopped dancing. All that mattered at this moment was him and Harry, and their lips together. 

Unfortunately, Louis’ brain had caught up with heart and he pulled away, groaning at the loss of contact that was Harry. His eyes cast downward, finally breaking eye contact with the gorgeous green. He licked his lips, enjoying the taste of Harry before backing away and standing up.

“I’m really sorry, Harry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Harry reached out, squeezing Louis’ hand before dropping it, letting the sparks fly away.

“Beautiful song, Harry. I should be going to bed. Good night, Haz.”

“Good night, Lou.” 

He hurried back into the room, missing the woman who watched him and Harry from the balcony. If he would’ve seen her, he would’ve seen that Amelia had a smirk, before standing up and closing the double doors of her balcony, content with the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. Again. I'm so sorry lol.
> 
> Good news! Guess who has finished her exams and is OFFICIALLY A UNIVERSITY GRADUATE?! It's me. I'm excited.
> 
> I am not going to tell you when the next chapter is going to be uploaded, just know it will be. We're coming towards the end. I'm guessing one or two more chapters, then an epilogue because I love epilogues.
> 
> I would also like to mark this as---guess what, NIAM HAD A FUCKING INSTA LIVE TODAY CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?
> 
> Ok, great. Thank you all for your support.
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment, drop a kudos, or even message me as I am perpetually alone in this quarantine and missing One Direction.
> 
> Once again, this is a work of fiction and I do not own any characters or their life stories. I definitely do not own "Letters to Juliet" but I love the story. This is just for fun!
> 
> Stay safe, wash your hands, and treat people with kindness.
> 
> ~winterschild


	5. Chapter Five ~ White Horse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the journey home, Harry, Louis, and Amelia might find exactly what they're looking for with the help of fate and a glass of their favourite bottle of wine. Louis has to make sense of his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There is some (probably horrible) translated Italian in here (it's like 2 lines). If you are fluent, PLEASE correct me so I can fix it. Thank you and enjoy!

Louis didn’t want to leave—it was as simple as that. The sun was peaking through the blinds from his balcony, he knew the birds were singing, and it just didn’t seem to match his mood at all. Once he was out of bed, he was admitting that whatever this past week had been was now coming to its inevitable end. Harry and Amelia were going to return to Holmes Chapel, the story was going to stay incomplete and unsatisfying, and Louis was going to be in Verona with his fiancé, whom he wasn’t sure he even loved anymore. Yeah, Louis didn’t want to leave.

The Doncaster boy stayed in bed longer, watching the minutes tick by as he willingly skipped out on breakfast. He reached for his phone, noticing the many notifications he had. He quickly muddled through some unanswered emails, gave his Facebook feed a gander, and opened his messages to respond to the group chat he had with his sisters.

Louis’ heart rate picked up noticing the blue dot next to Micah’s name—why was he nervous about opening a text from his fiancé? Logically, there was no way that Micah could know Louis was having doubts about their relationship. Realistically, he knew it was probably to inform him that he was on his way back to Verona, as they discussed a return date a few days previous. Alongside that, there was no way that Micah knew about his kiss with Harry either—oh, fuck.

Harry kissed Louis last night. And Louis kissed him back. Harry wrote a song about Louis and then they kissed. 

“Shit,” Louis grumbled, clutching his phone tightly as he dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. He could feel the impending headache growing already. Deciding that the only way to settle his nerves was to open the goddamn message, he did just that.

_Hi babe. Will be leaving in a few hours! See you later tonight. Love you <3_

Louis let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, typing back a quick response before turning off his screen and throwing himself back against his mattress. He let out a groan, not caring who heard him, as his thoughts raced back to Harry.

Beautiful, sweet Harry with his stupidly pretty eyes and soft, curly hair. Stupid Harry, with the voice of an angel and the lips of the devil. This was a disaster. Louis wasn’t supposed to be crushing on somebody immediately after he came to terms with the fact that there was a serious deficit in his relationship. Louis does suppose that this wouldn’t have come on without the assistance of Harry’s stupidly pretty eyes, however. He rolled back over, taking in the pattern on the ceiling before shaking off his thoughts and standing.

It was already 10:20 and Louis hadn’t repacked his luggage yet. He decided to busy himself with that, throwing on his Spotify to avoid thinking about Harry Styles. Once his bag was packed, Louis threw on his Black Sabbath t-shirt and a pair of jean shorts before fixing his hair in the en suite. If the universe hadn’t chosen to hate him enough, his plan of avoiding thoughts about Harry Styles had only last about 10 minutes, because three songs later, “Perfect” by Lewis Capaldi began to plan. 

This stopped Louis in his tracks as he listened to the lyrics. He couldn’t help but wonder who inspired Harry to write this song. What experiences had Harry had? Who decided to keep Harry a secret? Or was it Harry who wanted to keep them a secret? Why did Louis care so much?

He didn’t. Or at least that’s what he was going to tell himself. To prove to himself he didn’t care, he reached over and closed out Spotify completed. He shot Harry a text, asking if they were ready to head out, before grabbing his bags and making his way down to the lobby.

Louis phone dinged once he took a seat by the front desk. It was a text from Harry, “ _Be down in a few!_ _😊_ _”_ Louis smiled warmly, typing out a cheeky response about going faster and set his phone back in his lap.

“Texting your fiancé?”

Louis jumped, not expecting anyone to be near him. When he looked up, he found Amelia smirking at him, a mischievous glint in her eye. Louis responded, “What?”

“You just seemed to be very happy, that’s all,” Amelia chuckled. “I’ve been around awhile, Lou, I know a lovesick face when I see one.”

“Oh,” Louis stuttered. How was he supposed to defend himself against this one? “Uhm, no—it’s not like—you see. Uhm, it—yeah.”

“Don’t worry, dear, I’m only messing with you.” Just as Louis was about to defend himself, Harry walked up behind his nan, planting a kiss on her cheek as she greeted him. “Hi, Harry dear. Are we all set?” The tall lad nodded, taking her bag from her hands and throwing it over his shoulder. Satisfied with her grandson, Amelia began her way out to the car as the two boys hung back.

There was a sort of tension between them; Louis couldn’t tell if it was awkward or not, but he decided not to dwell on it too much. “Well,” Louis coughed. Harry was staring intently at Louis, and he felt a bit nervous under the scrutiny. “Should we get going then?” Louis bent down to grab his bag, but was too slow, as Harry snatched it first and threw it over the shoulder opposite of Amelia’s bag. 

Harry didn’t respond, choosing to follow the path his nan took; Louis followed. When the pair had finally reached the rental, they both noticed Amelia spread out in the back seat, a book in her hand. They exchanged looks but shrugged it off. Apparently, Louis was going to be riding up front with Harry today.

As Harry shoved their bags in the trunk, Louis made his way over to the passenger side. He buckled himself in and let out a shaky breath, his nerves starting to pick up once again. He hadn’t even noticed that Harry was also now in the car, and their arms were brushing against each other in the console.

“I hope you boys don’t mind, I wanted to stretch out my legs this ride,” Amelia announced, leaning between Harry and Louis.

Harry shook his head. “Of course not, nan. No bother sitting next to Lou for a few hours.”

“How’d you boys sleep? I know I slept brilliantly.” Amelia let there be a beat of silence before she continued, “The stars were absolutely brilliant last night! You should’ve seen the view from my balcony!” Louis spared a side-glance at Harry, noticing the bobbing of his Adam’s apple with a heavy swallow. Harry hummed in response.

Louis leaned forward, opting to fill the silence with some music, “I say we listen to some tunes. Sound alright?” Without waiting for an answer, he pressed on the radio before relaxing back and staring at the passing scenery. 

The beginning of the drive wasn’t as awkward as Louis expected. Amelia helped keep a steady conversation going between herself and Harry, with the occasional comment by Louis. For the most part, Louis just stayed ingrained in his phone, trying not to think about the warmth Harry provided or the way his fingers plucked guitar strings. 

After half an hour, Harry and Amelia were in a conversation about songwriting when Amelia suddenly exclaimed, “Oh, Harry! Slow down! Look, there’s the vineyard for our favourite wine, Chianti! We have to stop and do a tour—drink a glass.”

“Alright, nan. Is that okay with you, Lou?” Louis hummed in response, as Amelia clapped her hands together playfully. 

Harry slowed the car down, taking a left turn down a long drive lined with grapevines. There were workers in the fields, picking off grapes from the vines and putting them in baskets. It looked beautiful—the vineyard. While Louis didn’t mind the occasional glass of wine, he had never been a connoisseur. He hadn’t visited a vineyard until he went on this trip, but it was no doubt that they were beautiful.

Lost in thought, Louis was brought back out when the boys heard Amelia gasp, yelling, “Harry, stop the car!” Harry did so, slamming on the brakes and throwing an arm out to hold Louis from flying forward.

“Nan, what the hell,” Harry yelled, but he was ignored as Amelia rapidly unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed out of the car, running forward. Harry and Louis shared a look, before following the older woman. Once they reached Amelia, who was now frozen in her spot, Harry asked again, “Nan, what the hell is going on?”

Louis followed Amelia’s gaze to a young man, with olive skin and dark hair thrown into a bun. He couldn’t have been older than 18, with his skin glistening from sweat, no doubt produced by working in this heat. After admiring the young man, Louis’ gaze went back to Amelia, who was staring as if she had seen a ghost.

“It’s him,” she murmured. She lifted her finger to point at the boy, “It’s Matteo.”

“The boy, nan?” Harry reached out, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Okay, nan, I think we need to get you out of the sun.” Harry began to guide her away from the boy and back to the car, but Louis went forward.

Louis approached the boy, who had noticed him and shot a curious look his way. Louis reached out for a handshake, asking, “Mi scusi. Mi chiamo Louis Tomlinson. Sto cercando un Matteo Ferrero?” [Excuse me. My name is Louis Tomlinson. I’m looking for a Matteo Ferrero?]

“Sì, sono Matteo Ferrero,” the boy responded, wiping his hands on his jeans before returning Louis’ handshake. [Yes, I am Matteo Ferrero.] Louis’ eyes lit up, suddenly realizing what was happening. It seemed that Harry had caught on too, as he quickly rushed to Louis’ side.

Louis looked to Harry, “This is Matteo Ferrero.” 

Harry’s smile widened as he turned towards the boy. “Oh goodness, you’re Matteo Ferrero?”

“Sì, sono Matteo Ferrero.” 

“He’s Matteo Ferrero! Lou, do you know what this means?”

Louis nodded, “Yes, I think I figured it out.” This was the grandson of the man they had been looking for. Louis turned around, reaching out for Amelia, but he found her stunned, retracting in on herself.

“Harry,” she muttered, eyes wide. “Let’s go. I think it’s time for us to go.”

Harry reached out for her, clearly confused, “But, nan, we’re here. We can’t just back off now?”

“Can I help you?” Louis’ attention was brought back to the boy in front of them, who was now next to an older man, probably in his forties. He shared the same face as the boy, so Louis assumed it was the boy’s father.

“Yes, hi,” Louis started. He snuck a glance back at Amelia before continuing, “We were looking for a Matteo Ferrero.”

The man nodded, pointing at himself, “I am Matteo Ferrero.”

Harry spoke, “Does your father’s name also happen to be Matteo Ferrero?”

“Yes, but I don’t understand. How can we help you?”

“We are being incredibly rude, I’m sorry,” Louis apologized. “My name is Louis Tomlinson; that is Amelia Carlton-Styles and Harry Styles. We have been scouring Sienna for your father for the past few days. You see, he’s a friend of Amelia—”

“Louis, stop. Let’s go. This was a mistake.”

“What are you talking about, nan?”

“I’ve been ridiculous, Harry. This has all been so stupid. He doesn’t want to see me,” she reasoned, pulling back from Harry’s grip. “It’s been fifty-five years. He’s moved on.” Before she could retreat to the car completely, however, there was the sound of hooves galloping, approaching the group.

The group turned towards the noise, watching a figure make its way through the grapes. As if it were a fairy tale, it was that moment that an older gentleman, resembling the other two men, rode up on a white horse. That was him—Louis knew it. He could tell by the thick hair the man sported, although much more silver than what he assumed it was fifty-five years before. He had brilliant bone structure, with a square jaw adorned by a silver beard. Louis could mostly tell, however, by the eyes—the stunning blue eyes that Amelia had described to him.

Without noticing, the younger boy had snuck away, running up to the man on the horse and speaking to him in Italian. Seeming to take in the situation, the old man jumped from his steed, slowly making his way toward the three strangers on his property. As if it were a gravitational force, Amelia started to move as well.

The pair met in the middle, closing the distance they previously held. Matteo reached a hand out, letting it softly caress Amelia’s face; she nuzzled into it peacefully.

“It’s you, isn’t it? Mi Amelia?” All she could do was nod. “I never thought I’d see you again,” Matteo admitted. It looked as though he couldn’t believe his eyes.

Amelia just nodded, “Neither did I. I’m sorry it took me so long.” It seemed without hesitation when the two embraced each other, ignoring the audience surrounding them. Louis made his way next to Harry, sending him a smile and reaching out to grab his hand.

This was it. This was the happy ending they were hoping for.

~

“If you’ll allow me, I would like to make a toast,” Matteo began. He was standing at the head of the table, which overlooked the beautiful vineyard. Louis and Harry were next to each other, across from Amelia, who was sat next to Matteo. They were surrounded by Matteo’s family—his children, their spouses, and his grandchildren. It was picture perfect. “I really don’t know how to express myself. I went for a ride this morning as an old man, and I came back as a teenager again.” Noises of endearment sounded around the table. “I am so very happy for you to all meet Amelia, and her grandson Harry. And their lovely friend, Louis.” Louis bowed his head, hoping to keep the attention away from him. He felt Harry place his large hand on his thigh. Matteo continued, “My dear Amelia, you have told me you have lost your James, and you know I lost my Rosa. But destiny wanted us to meet again. Grazie.” The table raised their glasses in triumph, speaking various forms of thanks. Louis touched his glasses to Harry’s, and he noticed the bright smile that Harry was sending his way, happiness radiating from his eyes.

Louis broke his stare with Harry and looked over to Amelia, who was murmuring, “I’m sorry I was late.”

“No,” Matteo responded, reaching over to place his hand over her. “When we are speaking about love, it is never too late.” Harry had caught the exchange as well, his features softening at the look Amelia was giving to Matteo, her one true love. 

After dinner and some amazing conversation with the Ferrero family, Louis joined in a game of footie with some of the younger kids. He was trying to focus on teaching them some tricks he had learned when he played in university, but he could feel Harry’s eyes on him. His thoughts on Harry had returned. Louis had to leave soon; he promised Micah he’d be back tonight and it was nearly approaching 5:00 pm, with a three-hour drive back. 

Leaving meant leaving Sienna. It meant leaving Italy. It meant leaving Amelia and Matteo, who had finally reunited. Leaving meant leaving Harry. Louis just wasn’t sure his heart could handle that just yet.

He excused himself from the game, opting to go sit next to a lonely Harry across the garden. Blue met green, and Louis was melting where he stood; this was going to be harder than he had hoped.

“Hi,” Louis greeted, sitting down on the bench. The two looked over at Amelia and Matteo, who were making their way around the garden, arms interlocked. “This is truly amazing, Haz.”

Harry chuckled, “Perfect ending for your story. There’s no way you can’t give this to your boss now.”

“Yeah, perfect.” Harry didn’t miss the way Louis’ voice dropped and his smile faltered. “No one’s gonna believe it, right? The hero rides in last minute on a white horse?”

“Seems too good to be true, I suppose.” Their eyes met one another again, holding the gaze. Louis wished that all his feelings could be translated through their gaze, so he didn’t have to speak it allowed. “Listen, Lou. I never should have kissed you; it was inappropriate of me. I mean, you’re engaged.”

“Yeah.” Louis looked away again. He began to fiddle with his fingers, as Harry began to play with his rings. “You’re really talented Harry. That song you wrote, you should record it. Get your talent out to the world.” Harry nodded.

Too many seconds of silence passed before Harry spoke, “So, I guess this is it then.” It felt too final; Louis hated it.

“I guess it is.” Much to Louis’ surprise, Harry reached out, caressing one of Louis’ hands in his. He brought it up to his mouth, leaving a lingering kiss on his knuckles; it was soft, just like it had been last night. Louis could feel the pressure behind his eyes build up, as tears began to rise to the surface. He didn’t want Harry to notice the glistening, so he pulled his hand back to his chest. “Thank you, Harry, for everything. Goodbye Harry.” He stood up abruptly, leaning over to place a lingering kiss on his cheek. He had to get back to Micah. It was time.

Before Harry could respond, Louis was running off to Amelia and Matteo; he missed Harry’s expression of sorrow and the tears building up in the green of his eyes. The couple grinned upon his arrival as he announced, “It’s time. I must get back, to Micah. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, darling,” Amelia smiled. “Yes, of course. Where’s Harry? We’ll give you a ride back straight away.”

“Oh, Amelia. No. I can’t take you away from here; you just got here.” Louis didn’t know if he could handle being in a car with Harry either.

Matteo interrupted, “My son can drive you. Hold on.” Louis thanked him. 

Once Matteo was out of earshot, Louis expressed, “I’m so happy for you, Amelia.” The tears that were threatening to spill in front of Harry were now at the brim, waiting to fall. Saying goodbye to Amelia very much cemented that this was the end and that he was losing Harry. 

“Is something wrong, darling?”

“No!” Louis shouted. “No, nothing’s wrong. I’m just sad to leave such a beautiful family. And you know—yeah.”

“And you’re leaving?” Louis nodded. “An angel brought you to me.” Amelia brought Louis in for a tight hug, which Louis reciprocated, whispering in his ear, “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I’ll be eternally grateful.” Louis basked in the motherly embrace a little longer, trying to hold onto the memories he had made in the past few days. He finally pulled away, pressing a kiss to her cheek before saying his final goodbye.

Louis turned away before any tears could fall, making his way to the Styles’ car to grab his baggage. He helped Matteo load in his bags, shutting the back door and turning towards Matteo, who was now joined by Amelia. 

Matteo leaned in, hugging Louis tightly with a thank you. He wished them happiness, pulling away and getting into the passenger side of the Ferrero’s truck. Louis waved to the couple as they began to drive away, effectively wiping away the stray tears that had shed. He snuck a glance into the side mirror, seeing the tall silhouette of Harry outlined by the sunset behind him.

The beautiful Harry that had opened up so many parts of Louis’ mind. He had hated Harry when he first met him, but it only took three days to consider that he might have feelings for the Cheshire boy. Regardless, Louis couldn’t act on his feelings; he had a fiancé that he had to at least try to work this out with. It wouldn’t be fair to Micah to not try; after all, he would hope Micah would do the same for him if he were faced with the same issue.

Louis couldn’t stop his thoughts about Harry though. He couldn’t not think about the luscious, brown curls on his head, and how Harry always pushed his large hand through them when he was thinking. He couldn’t not think about that hand, and the small cross he had tattooed by his thumb, or the massive H. S. rings he had on his fingers. He couldn’t not think about how those ringed fingers played at the pink, bow-shaped lips when Harry was nervous. He couldn’t not think about how the cool rings felt on his cheeks when Harry kissed him. He couldn’t not think about the song Harry had begun to write, and what the meaning behind that song was. Harry was stuck in Louis’ mind and he didn’t know how to handle it.

But Louis had to handle it because Louis was engaged. So, in the three hours that it took to get back to his fiancé, Louis was going to handle it; he was going to remove Harry from his memory and move on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks! We are close to being done--I've got one more chapter for you, as well as an epilogue.
> 
> I have finished my senior exams, which means I am officially graduated and have a Bachelor's of Science in Psychology!
> 
> It also means that, because I am on quarantine and not currently working/am not down with school, I have nothing to do but writing and paint! With that being said, I am currently finishing up that last chapter now and will be writing the epilogue soon after. Expect this to be finished within the next couple of days.
> 
> Thanks for everything so far. If you'd like to check out my other Larry stories, feel free to visit my profile. If you'd like to see any future prompts written, feel free to shoot me some ideas. Also feel free to drop a comment, kudos, or bookmark for future purposes.
> 
> Once again, this is a work of fiction and I do not own any characters or their life stories. I definitely do not own "Letters to Juliet" but I love the story. This is just for fun!
> 
> Stay safe, wash your hands, and treat people with kindness.
> 
> ~winterschild


	6. Chapter Six ~ I Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis receives some amazing news and a wedding invitation. He finally has to face his feelings, but will he go with his heart or his head?

Louis’ leg bounced nervously as he watched his boss read over the story. It had been three weeks since they had returned from Italy, and Louis had spent those three weeks perfecting the story about Amelia and Matteo. When Louis had told Bob that he had a perfect piece for Sweetest Day, it came as a surprise when Bob actually took the bait for once.

“Well Tomlinson,” Bob started, setting the story on his desk. “This is some story. It’s riveting, it keeps your attention, and the ending is what every girl that reads our paper wants to see.” Louis’ heart was soaring, but he was still unsure if it meant he would get published. “So, what ended up happening?”

Louis was confused now. “What do you mean? They ended up with each other?”

“Yeah, but what happened to everyone else? What about Harry? Where is he?” Louis had tried his hardest to not think about what Harry was doing for the past three weeks. “And did Matteo and Amelia get married, or are there any plans for that in the future?”

“Honestly, sir, I’m not sure.” It wasn’t getting printed; that’s what this meant.

Bob hummed, picking up the story again to give it a once over. “Okay,” he declared, “well, figure it out, I guess. You’ve got a month before we print it, so that should give you plenty of time to get in contact with them and update your story.”

“Wait, what?” It was now Bob who tilted his head in confusion. “You’re printing it?”

“Of course, I’m printing it, Tomlinson. It’s brilliant! I just want to see it completed before I throw it on the front-page.” Frontpage? His story was going to be put on the front page?

Louis didn’t know what to say. Instead of a rambling thank you speech, he simply said, “Thank you, sir. I will get that information for you right away.” With that, Louis stood up, taking back the paper and making his way out of the office. Once he had found his way to his desk, he looked at his assistant and shot her two thumbs up. They both huddled close and squealed; this was the big break that Louis was waiting for, and it seemed that everything was falling into place.

“Ok, Jade, I’m gonna head out now. I need to go tell Micah the good news!” Louis ran to his desk and began to pack up his messenger bag. He could barely contain his excitement, even if the piece wouldn’t be out for a month. He shot a quick text to his sister and in the group chat with Niall and Liam to tell them the good news; he promised all three he would call them later to give them more details.

Jade smiled at him again, before her eyes grew big, “Hold on, Lou! I actually have a message for you.” She ran over to her desk, snatching a small envelope with his name on it. Once she handed it over, Louis quickly looked over the pink envelope—he knew exactly who it was from.

“Thank you, Jade. I’ll catch you tomorrow?” Jade nodded and Louis headed out, waiting to open up the letter in private. Once outside on the streets of Manhattan, he thumbed the envelope open, retrieving the letters that were inside. He looked at the cardstock first:

WE INVITE YOU TO CELEBRATE

~

THE WEDDING OF

**Amelia Styles & Matteo Ferrero**

7-27-2020

Louis gasped, happiness bubbling inside of him—this was in three days. He then looked at the folded paper that was behind the cardstock and he instantly recognized it. It was the letter he had written to Amelia that started this whole story.

He waited on the corner for his Uber, reading over the note once again to remember the words that he wrote to her. They were perfect, and now that he had the note, he might be able to incorporate it into the story; he didn’t know if he was necessarily comfortable with that, but it would definitely add to the personal element of the piece.

His Uber pulled up and he made his way into the vehicle, greeting the driver with a warm smile. The driver asked for any music preferences and Louis told him whatever, so the driver flicked on the Top 40 radio as Louis prepared for the drive; Manhattan traffic during midday wasn’t exactly the most pleasant.

While this invitation seemed like the perfect detail he needed for his story, he didn’t know if he was going to go. Surely, he didn’t have to be at the wedding to know that it happened or get details on what happened at it. Louis would love to see Amelia and Matteo again, but that would mean that he would also have to see Harry again—it had only been a month since he had seen him, and Louis still had lingering feelings.

When Louis had returned from Siena originally, he didn’t have the conversation he intended with Micah. He didn’t really know how to bring up the idea that they had fallen out of love with each other, and that he had discovered this because a hot man with great hair had kissed him under the stars. However, Louis had addressed that he wanted their last week in Verona to be about them, and not about the restaurant. While Micah was somewhat resistant at first, Louis was able to reason that he’d have months to set all his focus on this restaurant and it was only fair to Louis; that got Micah to agree. The rest of the trip was decent.

Of course, when they returned to New York, the restaurant, which was opening a week from today, was at the forefront of everyone’s brain, especially Micah’s. This would mean that Louis would have to wait for a meaningful conversation with Micah until after the initial excitement of the grand opening had toppled over.

Louis closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headrest, trying to relax his racing thoughts. Instead, he decided to listen to the radio to hopefully distract himself into deciding not going to this wedding.

“ _And that was ‘Before You Go’ by Lewis Capaldi, #2 on this week’s charts. Coming in at #1 is a surprising twist—it’s a newcomer on the scene who has been taking it by storm with his first single, ‘Adore You.’”_ Louis’ blood ran cold and he asked the driver to turn up the radio. ‘ _The British babe has captured the hearts of so many already, with his song flying to number #1 on the iTunes charts and he’s slowly climbing his way up to #1 on the Billboards Top 100. He’s definitely a breakthrough act that we are looking forward to seeing more of. So, here is ‘Adore You’ by Harry Styles._ ”

Harry Styles. This was his Harry Styles. This was his song—not Harry’s, but _his_.

“Walk in your rainbow paradise,

Strawberry lips stick state-of-mind,

I get so lost inside your eyes,

would you believe me?

You don’t have to say you love me,

you don’t have to say nothing,

you don’t have to say you’re mine.”

This version was much more pop-rock, with more than just an acoustic guitar to accompany the voice. There was a drumline, a bassline, and an electric guitar. There were beautiful background vocals. It was brilliant.

“Oh, honey.

I’d walk through fire for you.

Just let me adore you.”

There was a new chorus, that talked about summer skies and lemon over ice.

“You don’t have to say you love me,

I just want to tell you something,

Lately, you’ve been on my mind.”

The song ended and Louis was just sat frozen in the backseat of this Uber, wedding invitation in his hand, and a letter that talked about true love. He didn’t know what to. Scratch that—he knew exactly what to do, it was just the pressure of actually doing it that was stopping him.

The Uber pulled up in front of the restaurant and Louis quickly made his way out, thanking the driver on the way. He ran through the front door, saying hi to the staff that was currently being trained and the men who were finishing up some last-minute design.

Louis found himself in the kitchen, surrounded by staff that was practising what Louis assumed were recipes for the menu, which is where he found Micah giving instructions to one of the chefs. He approached him, signalling him with a wave and stepping away, out of the main work area.

“Hey babe,” Micah greeted, a tight smile on his face. “What’s up? We’re a little busy right now.”

“I just wanted to come to share the good news; Bob’s gonna publish my article!” Micah smiled, grabbing onto Louis and pulling into a hug, congratulating him. “Yeah, it’s so exciting! It’s going to be in next month’s issue. Did you get a chance to read it? I left a copy of it out for you last night?”

Micah faltered, bringing his hand to scratch the back of his head, “I didn’t, but I know it’s going to be amazing—that’s why they’re going to publish it! I’ll get to read it when it comes out.” That stung; Louis knew it did. The sting, however, felt okay because it helped make up Louis’ mind for him.

“Yeah. Amelia and Matteo are getting married, too.”

“Oh, wow. Really? When?’

“Saturday.”

“As in like, three-days-from-now Saturday?”

“Yes.” This was it; this was the moment. “I’m gonna go, Micah. Alone.” Time stopped, and so did Micah. For the first time in years, it seemed he stopped paying attention to the restaurant and started paying attention to Louis; the problem was, it was too late for that. 

“Alone,” Micah clarified. Louis nodded. Micah looked around at the staff in the kitchen, then instructed, “Everyone get out of the kitchen. Just leave everything.” The other kitchen staff shot him confused looks, but he reiterated urgently, “Go! Get out of the kitchen. Come on.” They understood the seriousness of his tone, so they followed. Once the kitchen was empty, he turned back to Louis, “No, no, Louis, wait—”

“No! No, Micah, please. Just let me speak for once.” Louis breathed in, letting the tension hang in the air. “I really don’t know what this is anymore, Micah. This doesn’t feel like a partnership, or a relationship, or really anything anymore. We went across the world together and we spent no time with each other, and we were both fine with it.”

“Well, yeah, Lou; it’s because it’s what you wanted. You enjoyed yourself—you had fun.”

“I know that Micah, but that’s not the point. That’s the problem. We both went on this ‘pre-honeymoon,’ and we did our own thing, and neither of us minded. We didn’t want to share it with each other.” Louis maintained eye contact with Micah. “That’s not how relationships are supposed to work.”

Micah shook his head, bringing his hands to his hips, stating, “I don’t understand. Where is this coming from?”

“Micah, let’s face it. This isn’t new information to either of us or any of our friends and family. This has been a long time coming,” Louis argued sympathetically. “After my mum passed away, everything changed—you know it did. We were never as close; we stopped understanding each other. You were busy with your restaurant and I—well, I was grieving and adjusting to a life without my biggest supporter. You just don’t have enough time for what I need, Mic.”

Micah looked at Louis sincerely but sadly. “I’m sorry, Louis. I wish I could say that things were going to be different and that I am going to change, but this is just who I am.”

“I don’t want you to change, Mic. I don’t. I love who you are, but I’ve changed. And I am not in love with you anymore, and you are not in love with me anymore.” Micah dropped his head, watching the way Louis fiddled with his hands. “I’m really sorry, Mic, it’s just not working anymore.”

Tears began to spill over the rim of Louis’ eyes, causing Micah to take notice and pull him into a hug. It was a warm embrace, and Louis revelled in it because he knew it would most likely be their last. 

“I’m really sorry, Micah.”

“I understand, Louis.” Louis pulled away, taking in another breath and smiling at him. Louis was terrified; this was a seven-year relationship—it was his entire adult life. He would have to find a new apartment; he would have to rearrange so much of his life because of this, but it’s what was right. Moreover, it’s what Louis needed to do because he couldn’t keep lying to himself that this was what he wanted or needed.

“Thank you. I really have to go, though.” And Louis left. He turned around, refusing to glance back, and walked out the back entrance. Once he was outside, he took in another deep breath—he felt relieved. He put out his Air pods from his bag, popping them in and pulling up Spotify, quickly searching “Adore You.” He listened to it five times before he ended up back at his apartment.

~

It wasn’t very often one would find Louis Tomlinson in a suit nowadays; his normal attire typically consisted of a pair of trackies and a hoodie. Even at work, he managed to work a business casual wardrobe centred around Adidas. This, however, was a special exception.

Landing in Florence after a gruelling 9-hour flight, with a four-hour layover in London, Louis managed to hurry into the toilet of the airport and change into his formal attire. The suit Lottie had managed to find for him on short notice was a Prussian blue two-piece, with a double-breasted jacket. She paired it with a white button-up and a white handkerchief. He gelled his hair back into a clean quiff for the first time in well over a year—after all, he was trying to impress someone.

After he was satisfied with his look, he shot a text to Lottie letting her know he landed safely. The past three days had been mind-boggling; once Louis had managed to wrap his head around the idea that he wasn’t engaged anymore, Lottie was the first one to know. He called her at 2:00 am London time to share the news, where she proceeded to ask him two hours’ worth of questions, some pertaining to the breakup while others pertained to a certain curly-headed Englishman. Ultimately, she was happy for Louis, mostly because—for the first time in a long time—Louis felt happy. He had told her his plan to go to Siena to win over Harry, and she happily agreed to assist in any way, which is why he made a pit stop at her London flat to pick up a suit from her on his layover.

Niall and Liam were the next to be told, simply by sending an “I’m going to Siena to find Harry” in the group chat and letting the boys come up with their own ideas in their heads. After sending that text, Louis had shut his phone off until the morning, eventually giving in and ringing Liam to explain what had happened. Knowing that Liam would tell Niall, he finished packing up and got on a plane to Florence to hopefully cement his future.

His phone dinged, indicating that Lottie had responded, _“Go get’em, tiger. Tell him I want a song written about me next!”_ He responded to Lottie, then opened his other messages to find two unread in his “Ladsssss” group chat with Niall and Liam: 

_“Can’t wait to meet this idiot! Hope he’s as hot as you say he is!”_

_“Niall, fuck off. Send up a pic! Zayn wants to see him too!”_

Louis chuckled; he loved his friends. Once he had responded accordingly, he moved to open his car rental confirmation and made his way over to the appropriate hub. Settled into his rental he inserted the address to the Ferrero residence and prepared for the hour drive, thoughts about Harry freely flowing through his mind.

Time seemed to fly, and Louis felt he didn’t have sufficient time to consider what he was going to say to Harry by the time he was pulling down the familiar driveway of the Chianti Vineyard. It felt like only yesterday he had been here, watching a chapter of a brilliant love story unfold, and closing another on his own. The driveway was lined with about thirty cars, enough to represent a decent sized ceremony.

He hadn’t spoken to Amelia, nor had he reached out to Harry to let him know he was coming, but he couldn’t be happier to be there. As he made his way up the path, he instantly recognized some of Matteo’s grandchildren, who came running up to him with an embrace. Louis then saw the Secretaries of Juliet, dressed beautifully in various gowns. He broke from the children and made his own over, greeted the women with hugs and warmth.

“Louis! I’m so happy you made it,” Alice exclaimed brightly.

“Hello, love. So good to see you.”

Isabela was next, wrapping her arms around him tightly, “Can you believe we are here? This is amazing!” Louis nodded. “Have you seen Harry yet? He looks amazing.” Louis blushed, letting his eyes wander over the crowd until he found exactly who he was looking for.

And there he was, looking as beautiful as ever—maybe even more so. It seemed that Harry had gotten his hair trimmed since Louis had last seen him; it was no longer brushing the back of his neck but was neatly trimmed, cut shorter on the sides. The signature curls were muted with product, pushed back, but still looking soft and luscious. His tall physique was adorned in a beautiful pale blue suit layered over an aquamarine button up. The top two buttons remained undone, allowing for a pearl necklace to peak through proudly. The suit hugged his strong shoulders and tiny waist—Harry looked perfect.

As if Harry could sense him, the green eyes that Louis had dreamt about for a month were suddenly catching his, causing Harry to withdrawal from the conversation he had been in with a guest. His eyes brightened and Harry’s smile grew as he made his way over to Louis, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug before Louis could utter a word.

“Louis,” Harry mumbled into Louis’ neck. “You made it. I’m so happy you’re here.”

Louis hugged him back, wrapping his arms around that tiny waist he was admiring before, as he responded, “I’m happy I’m here too.” Seconds passed by into minutes before the two finally parted way. Happiness radiated from both boys as Louis spoke, “It’s so good to see you, Harry. I can’t believe we’re actually here.”

“You’re telling me. I barely got back to the U. K. before my nan was dragging me back out here to help her plan a wedding.” Louis was about to bring up Harry’s song when someone from the wedding party called his name, beckoning him over. “Shit, that’s my cue I guess, yeah?” He was about to turn away, but hesitated, wrapping his large hand around Louis’ smaller one, “You’re staying for the reception then? I’ll get to talk to you after?”

“Yeah, of course.” Harry beamed, squeezing Louis’ hands before releasing it and walking towards the others in the wedding party. Louis took in a breath, letting his nerves calm themselves.

Isabela signalled him to follow her into a spacious hall in the Ferrero home where the ceremony was going to take place. Louis took a seat in the middle aisle, observing those who were around the room.

Ten minutes later, the Wedding Procession started, bringing everyone to their feet to look at the back of the hall. That is when Louis spotted the bride—Amelia. She was wearing a knee-length white gown, her hair done into an updo off her shoulders. A simple diamond necklace was laying across her clavicle, and a set of matching earrings dropped from her ears. Amelia’s smile, however, is what made her shine—she looked absolutely ecstatic.

Harry was on her arm, guiding her down the petaled path, where he met eyes with Louis again, signalling to Amelia to look towards him. Amelia did, and her face lit up even more. She reached forward for Louis’ hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before making her way up the aisle to a handsome Matteo.

After the ceremony had ended, the wedding party and the guests were ushered into the garden for a reception. Louis was sat with the Secretaries, and he told them about how his story was going to be published. The women congratulated him, and he then told them about his split from his fiancé over dinner.

A ringing came from the wedding table, and everyone’s attention was brought to Matteo, who was now standing. “I just want to say thank you on behalf of myself and my lovely wife, Amelia. She wanted to speak a few words if you don’t mind.” Matteo leaned over, placing a kiss on her lips, before resuming his spot in the chair next to her.

Amelia stood confidently, a gentle smile on her face. “Hello, friends and family. Fifty-five years ago, I went to Juliet’s House in Verona; I wrote her a letter and I asked her a question. A little over a month ago, I receive a reply. Without that letter, none of us would be here today.” Amelia leaned over, hugging Matteo and glancing over at Harry before her eyes found Louis, who was starting to tear up. “Louis, would you mind if I read out the words you wrote to me?” Louis shook his head no. “Alright then.” She began to read:

_“Dear Amelia,_

_‘What’ and ‘if’ are two words as non-threatening as words can be. However, put them together side-by-side and they have the power to haunt you for the rest of your life._

_What if? What if?_

_What if?”_

Louis looked up, and green met blue again. Louis couldn’t tear his eyes away from Harry, regardless of how hard he tried.

_“Thousands of great love stories exist in this world, one of the greatest being inspired by the woman you wrote to. Unfortunately, we live in a world where not all end in happily ever after. Regardless of that truth, the one thing that I do know to be true, as my mum once told me, is true love always prevails._

_Another thing I believe to be true is that those who are meant to be in your life will be in your life; they will find a way back to you, always. You might find them in every place you go, in every lifetime, at random places and times. They might appear when you least expect them, or when you need them most. Sometimes, it just might take a little longer for destiny to work its magic._

_I do not know how your story ended, Amelia, but if what you felt then was true love, then it’s never too late. True love has no time limit, dear, but only requires a level of courage to run after it. It requires the courage to follow your heart._

_I do not know what a love like Juliet’s feels like, a love to give up everything for; a love to become completely defenceless for; a love that is home. However, I would like to believe that if I were to ever feel it, that I’d have the courage to seize._

_And, Amelia, if you didn’t. I hope one day that you will._

_Love, Louis.”_

The crowd applauded and Louis tore his eyes from Harry, tear tracks obvious on his face. Louis watched as Amelia sat down, kissing Matteo again, and it was all becoming too much to handle. He stood abruptly from the table, excusing himself and finding his way through the garden to the backside of the house.

Louis found a stone bench with a view of the vineyard, so he sat down and took in a few deep breaths. He didn’t know what he was expecting to happen here. Maybe he really hadn’t thought this through; I mean, what did he expect to happen really? He just broke up with his fiancé, who he had been dating for seven years. Although Harry kissed Louis, that didn’t mean he actually liked Louis—it could’ve been a lapse in judgement. Rationally speaking, Harry lives in London, while Louis is currently in New York, where his career is. A long-distance relationship from the start could never work out well for either of them. On top of it all, Louis had only known Harry for a month now, which is barely enough time to drop everything for.

“Hey, Lou,” someone interrupted; that someone was Harry, and Louis didn’t have to turn around to know so. He did, however, turn around to find beautiful Harry standing there with his hands crossed behind his back. Suddenly, Louis was having flashbacks to the night under the stars as Harry came closer, “Mind if I sit with you?” Louis could only nod. The two sat in a comfortable silence as they admired the beauty of nature. 

The silence carried for several minutes before Louis broke it, “Nice suit, Styles.”

Harry laughed, “Thanks, it’s Givenchy.”

"I’ll be honest with ya, lad; I have no idea what that means.”

More silence followed as Louis went back to watching the sunset. This time, it was Harry who broke the silence. “What are you thinking about? I can practically hear the cogs grinding.”

Louis divulged, “You listened to me. You recorded your song. I heard it on the radio.”

“I did. You asked me to.” 

“It was amazing; it was one of the reasons that pushed me to come to the wedding.”

“Were there other reasons?”

Louis hummed, finally choosing to look at Harry. “There were a few. They’re publishing my story.”

“Lou! That’s amazing. Congratulations; I’m so prou—”

“Do you like me,” Louis blurted, yet felt no regret. When he didn’t get an answer, he repeated, “Do you like me? You can let me down if you don’t, but I really need to know, Haz.”

Harry began to fiddle with one of his rings, twisting it around his left ring finger. “I might.” The silence dragged on again. “I do, I think. After that night in the hotel room, where you told me about your mum and I told you about mine, I think I just knew that I was drawn to you.”

“Your song; was it really written about me?”

Harry nodded, “Yes. I kinda had a melody going for a new song, and I might’ve had some help with developing the later verse, but I thought about you the entire time I was writing and recording it.”

“You barely even know me, Haz. How could you write an entire song about me?”

“Don’t you remember what the song was about, Lou,” Harry scoffed, crossing his hands over his lap. “I told you, it’s about being in your presence. I don’t know if you realize it or not, Lou, but you’re just like the perfect person to just—like—sit and admire what you’re like. You’re magnetic. I don’t have to know everything about you to know that I just want to be around you all the time.” It was probably one of the nicest things someone had said to Louis in over seven years; even at the prime of his and Micah’s relationship, Micah had never said anything like that about Louis.

Louis questioned, “But enough to write a whole song about me?”

This got an incredulous chuckle out of Harry. “Lou,” Harry said seriously, “I could write albums about just your eyes. I don’t know if that answers your question from earlier, but it’s true.”

“I don’t know what to say, Haz.”

“Does it matter?” Harry turned away again, once again fiddling with his hands. “Even if I did, it wouldn’t make a difference. You’re engaged.”

“Harry, can you look at me?” So, Harry did, and Louis took his hands, running his thumb over the cross tattoo. “There’s another reason I came to the wedding. I broke up with Micah.”

“What?”

“I thought a lot about our conversations, Harry. When you first sang ‘Ever Since New York’ for me, it triggered doubts that I had been having for years about my relationship with Micah,” Louis explained truthfully. “Then I talked to my sister, Lottie, and she told me that my mum stopped loving Micah when I did, and then I realized that I didn’t love Micah anymore.” Louis laughed humorlessly. “Then, on my way to tell Micah about my article getting published, your song started playing on the radio and all the thoughts I had been trying to avoid about you for the past month came rushing back and I realized that maybe when I was falling out of love with Micah, I was falling for you instead. And here I am, sitting next to yo—”

Lips were on Louis, and that’s all he could think about at the moment. This kiss wasn’t like the one before—it wasn’t soft, and hesitant. It was strong and powerful; it was desperate, and Louis was melting into it. Harry’s hand found its way up to Louis’ cheek, holding it gently as he deepened the kiss. Louis allowed his own hands to loop around Harry’s neck, pulling him impossibly closer as his fingers dragged into the short hair at the nape of his neck.

“You got a haircut,” Louis mumbled into the kiss. Harry hummed, sending vibrations down Louis’ spine. Louis and Harry found themselves lost in their own world before they heard a cough from behind them, causing them to pull apart.

A blush instantly rose to Louis’ face when he found Amelia and Matteo staring at them mischievously, a smirk present on Amelia’s face. Without a word, Amelia just turned around, dragging Matteo with her back to the reception.

“So,” Harry urged.

“So,” Louis teased, rolling his eyes. “About that album?” Harry laughed, before pulling Louis back in again, and Louis knew that maybe, while there were so many details he was going to have to work out, just maybe, he had found that love like Juliet’s.

Luckily for Liam, Niall, and even Zayn, as well, this meant that they would also be getting that selfie they asked for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that! Two days in a row that I'm posting!
> 
> We are technically finished, but there is an epilogue coming because I would've loved an epilogue for the originally movie as well.
> 
> Thank you for joining me thus far <3
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, feel free to drop a kudos, bookmark it for later, or leave a comment. Once again, this is a work of fiction and I do not own any characters or their life stories. I definitely do not own "Letters to Juliet" but I love the story. This is just for fun!
> 
> Stay safe, wash your hands, and treat people with kindness.
> 
> ~winterschild


	7. Epilogue: If I Could Fly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's debate about this in the comments.
> 
> Louis Styles v. Harry Tomlinson v. Styles-Tomlinson v. Tomlinson-Styles

“Haz! Come over here! You’ve got to do your speech,” Louis yelled from the front of the living room. He had pulled away from a conversation with Niall to call his boyfriend over, who was in the middle of showing Liam something on his phone across the room.

Harry looked over, smiling widely, before excusing himself away and joining Louis next to the giant window overlooking the city of London. Harry took Louis’ champagne glass, tapping against it to chime throughout the room, bringing everyone’s attention towards the couple at the front.

Harry began, “If you don’t mind, I would just like everyone’s attention for a few moments.” Once all eyes were on Harry and Louis, Harry continued confidently, “Thank you all for being here. Each and every one of you has been a part of this momentous occasion and I wouldn’t have been here without you all. I cannot begin to express my gratitude to all of you tonight, whether you had a part in writing the songs, setting up meetings and interviews, or just offering moral support in times of crisis.

“If you would’ve told me two years ago that I would put out a successful debut album and do a small tour around Europe and America, I would have told you that you were crazy. The first time around that we did this, I honestly had no confidence in whether I could sell an album or not. It seemed ridiculous for me to think that people would love my songs and that they would mean as much to them as they did to me. Going on my first tour had been something crazy as well because I felt it was the first time that it became real to me—all those people were there to experience my music with me.

“Now, all of you are here to experience my second album with me, and I couldn’t be happier. This album is extremely important to me,” Harry paused, reaching over to grasp one of Louis’ hands—Louis took it happily. “My first album was compiled of songs that told a sad story about disappointment and loss. This one, however, this one focuses on one of the best things that have ever happened to me in life—Louis.” The crowd of their friends and family wooed as a blush crept up Louis’ neck. “Two and a half years ago, my wonderful boyfriend told me that he wanted me to record my own songs; he told me that the world deserved my talent, and I listened to him. If it wasn’t for Louis’ continuous support and sometimes annoying pestering, I never would’ve had the courage to pursue my dreams, let alone make another album. That is why this album is dedicated to him.”

Once again, the crowd wooed, light applause coming from the crowd of thirty or so people. The room was filled with many of the label executives that Harry had signed with, as well as his manager and assistant. Harry’s band was there, who had become some of his best friends, as well as Louis’. Louis’ own best friends were there as well, watching him with massive smiles on their faces from across the room; Niall was with his girlfriend Lindsay and Liam with Zayn. Lottie was next to them, with Daisy and Phoebe following close behind, after they had practically begged Louis to let them be there; he always had a hard time saying no to them. Most importantly, Amelia was sat on the couch with Matteo, cuddled close as they watched on with love for the two boys.

After Louis had admitted his feelings to Harry, he returned to New York to work out his life. With much deliberation, Louis found that nothing was holding him in New York anymore besides his job, so he sold his story to the New Yorker and applied for several writing jobs based in London. He was fortunate to land a job writing for NME, and before he knew it, he was packing up what was most important to him and moving in with Lottie in London. He got in contact with Harry shortly after, spending evenings with Harry in the studio while recording his first album; sometimes Louis would even assist with backing vocals for some songs. 

Their relationship seemed to follow naturally from that point. Amelia stayed in Siena with her love, while Harry moved to London and into a flat with Louis six months into their relationship. Louis found that he was right when he introduced Harry to Liam and Niall for the first time, and they got on swimmingly. Lottie loved him, as did the rest of Louis’ family, and they all openly admitted that they knew his mum would’ve loved Harry too. Louis had never been so happy, and it was all because of the man standing next to him now.

“Niall, my guitar?” Niall handed Harry his Cherry Gibson and Harry threw the strap over his neck. “If it’s alright with you guys, I’d like to play one of the songs I’m most proud of from this new album. And I would like to play it for you, Lou.” 

The room fell silent as Harry began to strum a familiar melody; it was the fifth song on his new album. Tears instantly began to pool in Louis’ eyes and a smile rested on his lips as Harry began to sing,

“If I could fly, 

I’d be coming right back home to you.

“I think I might,

Give up everything just ask me to.

Pay attention I hope that you listen,

Cause I let my guard down.

Right now, I’m completely defenceless,

For your eyes only, I show you my heart,

For when you’re lonely and forget who you are,

I’m missing half of me when we’re apart.

Now you know me,

For your eyes only.”

Harry carried into the next verse softly, maintaining eye contact with Louis throughout the rest of the song. Louis’ heart was soaring—he never knew love to be this amazing. Once the song wrapped up, the crowd clapped, and Harry handed his guitar back over to Niall.

Louis noticed the intense stare Harry held on him, and his heart stuttered.

“Louis, my sunflower.”

“Yes, Harry?”

“From the moment I saw you two and a half years ago, I knew I couldn’t resist you. You were sassy, confident, and beautiful. I remembered how I wanted to compare your eyes to every sea because I was positive God had stolen the oceans and put them in your eyes. I won’t say that it was love at first sight, but I knew that I wanted to do everything in my power to make sure you were always smiling.” Louis couldn’t believe what he was hearing as his heart rate picked up. Harry reached up to stop a tear that had begun to run down Louis’ cheek. “Louis, I love you so much. I could not imagine my life without you in it. You are my muse. You are the reason I wake up in the morning and want to write music. You are everything that I always looked for and more. I will always want to tell the world about you through my music. When we first met, you asked me, Mr. Tomlinson, what it was that I was looking for that made it so hard for me to find. And I think the answer now is you—I was looking for you, Louis.”

A gasp fell from Louis’ lips as Harry took a knee, one hand reaching into his coat pocket to retrieve a small, velvet box. Harry propped open the box to reveal the most gorgeous ring Louis had ever seen. It was a yellow gold band, with an emerald-cut emerald in the middle. The emerald was decorated on either side with three small diamonds each. The stone was the same colour as Harry’s eyes in the sun.

“Louis, I told you that I could write entire albums about just your eyes. I meant it. I want to spend the rest of my life writing albums about your eyes, and your hair, and your smile, and the way you tell me you love me. I want to marry you and have four kids with you, settling down, even as young as we are. But I only want that if it’s with you. You wrote to my nan that you never knew a love like Juliet’s, a love to give up everything for. I’m telling you, Lou, I would give up everything for you, just ask me to. So, I’ll ask you now, and every day for the rest of my life, would you please do me the honour of spending the rest of our lives together, and marry me, Louis Tomlinson?”

“Oh, Harry. Is there any doubt I’d say yes? Of course, I’ll marry you,” Louis gushed tearfully. Harry slid the ring on Louis’ finger, before rising and pulling Louis into him, lips crashing. The audience around them seemed to have faded away and they got lost in each other, and in their happiness. Louis pulled away and giggled, “Leave it to you to take this moment away from yourself and put it on me.”

“Well, of course, I would, sunshine,” Harry whispered, allowing his hand to cup under Louis’ chin. “It’s always you. All of this is all for you.” They kissed again before they were being separated by their various friends for congratulations.

A year later, when Harry would take Louis’ last name and become Harry Tomlinson, Louis would think back to every decision he had ever made that had led him to this moment. He would ask himself if this is what Juliet’s love felt like. 

A year following that, when Louis watched Harry put their son, River James Tomlinson, in his bed for the first night, Louis would thank his past self for every decision he had ever made that led him to that moment. He would then tell himself that this is what Juliet’s love felt like.

Ten years down the road, Louis would huddle his four children—River James, Forest Desmond, Johannah Daisy, and Lily Anne—up to the VIP seats at a sold-out Wembley Arena to watch their Papa take the stage for the first time in two years after a much-needed hiatus. Harry and Louis’ family were already waiting for them, welcoming them with warm hugs and cuddles. Louis would be too distracted to think about his past self and every decision he had made that led him to that moment because he was too busy watching his beloved husband bounce around the stage. He would, however, remember to tell himself that no, this wasn’t what Juliet’s love felt like. 

It was better. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well! That's it! Thank you for joining me on this trip and I hope you liked it.
> 
> If you did, feel free to let me know down below or join me for more fluff-induced works on my profile. You can leave a kudos if you'd like, or you don't have to. It's up to you really.
> 
> As a reminder, I do not own the characters or the story this is based on. If you're interested, watch "Letters to Juliet," which is currently on Showtime. It is, hands-down, one of my favourite movies because it is so cute and cheesy. I did change quite a few things about the plot, but it is still a very cute movie and I think you'll like it if you liked this.
> 
> I hope quarantine is treating you all well and you are staying healthy. As always, stay safe, wash your hands, and ALWAYS treat people with kindness. 
> 
> ~winterschild

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for joining me on this journey so far! After watching this movie for probably the 50th time, I felt the need to write Harry and Louis in it while I'm in self-isolation. It isn't exactly like the script, but if you've seen this movie, you'll probably recognize the plot. 
> 
> I do not own any of the above, including the original plot or the people involved. This is completely fictional work--if you don't ship Larry and don't want to read about them, then please don't. Not beta'd, this is just for fun.
> 
> There is more to come! Drop a comment or kudos if you'd like.
> 
> ~winterschild
> 
> Feel free to reblog at https://givemelarrylikeher.tumblr.com/post/621914102363783168/love-louis-winterschild-one-direction-band


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